Disintegrate
by chasurozu
Summary: You can't always pick yourself back up. Sometimes you need other people to do that for you. Shizuo/Izaya.
1. Prologue

_**Disintegrate** [dis-in-tuh-greyt] - to decay; fall apart; reduce to pieces_

* * *

><p>It was hard to breath. Her chest felt strained, like something was pushing against her ribs, restricting her ability to breath—breath in that lovely, fresh oxygen. Not like the air around her was that clear at the moment; but it would still beat not being able to breathe <em>at all.<em> Smoke swirled around the interior of the vehicle in curls and puffs. She could barely see her twin sister through the smoke, hanging from her seat belt next to her, unconscious. Her head was bleeding, and the velvety red liquid dripped through her brown hair and onto the top of the car.

Seeing this, her mind finally registers that the blood is dripping up, and that they're sitting upside down in their seats. And that's why she can't breathe, because the seats belt is pushing into her stomach and chest. With a small groan, she reaches a shaking hand to her side and pushes a finger against the red ejection button for her seat belt. She falls, landing on the cars ceiling with a thud. Lifting her head, she turns it towards her sister once more, and begins to lift herself up and crawl over towards the unmoving body.

"Kururi," she murmurs, and presses a timid finger against her sisters cheek. When she receives no reaction, she reaches around her sister and presses her ejection button, catching her sister as she falls from her upside down position.

There is blood.

There is a lot of blood.

The side of her sisters head is lined with small glass fragments, blood pooling out of the both large and small wounds. She tightens her arms around her sisters torso and furrows her eyebrows.

"Kururi!" she repeats, louder this time. Still her sister lay unmoving in her arms. Mairu stares down at her sister, trying to find any sort of movement—any breathing—any little twitch that would let her know that her sister is alive.

"Girl!" A male's voice shouts from somewhere behind her, but she ignores it, focusing her attention purely on her twin.

"Little girl! You have to get away from the car!"

_No._

_She can't die._

Her fingers quiver as her runs them over her sisters lips. There's no breath. Nothing.

_No..._

"Little girl!"

_This can't be–_

She can't believe her sister is–

_This is impossible._

"The car is on fire! You have to get out of there!" The voice continues to yell.

"Kururi!" She yells, grabbing her sisters shoulders and shaking her frantically.

"KURU-"

Her shout is silenced by a loud explosion.

* * *

><p><em>I know this chapter may be confusing to some of you, but it'll explain further in the next chapter.<br>_

_I would love to hear from you though.  
><em>


	2. All Our Differences

He always thought the world was an easy thing to handle; that he could control everyone and everything he wanted. Humans were in the palm of his hand and nothing could stop him—nothing, nothing, nothing could stop his crazy schemes. Humans were just too easy to manipulate! And he loved it; he loved that he could control human's feelings and actions. He felt like he was on top of the world, and nothing could knock him off his Godly pedestal.

This is what he _thought_.

Why his thoughts no longer drift towards these ambient schemes, you may be wondering. Unfortunately you'll have to figure this out by yourself while we dig deep into the mind of the conniving, Orihara Izaya.

Let me tell you now that this is not a story were our sneaky, little informant gets captured and raped by his enemies and ends up going through numerous traumas because of this. This is a story where Izaya's actions were not the cause of his own down-fall. Actually, he was entirely irresponsible! It's based on something his precious humans did—his _loyal_ game pieces. And there's nothing that he can do to change it; there's no going back and attempting to change the past; nothing to try and make the future better.

All he can do is sit there, and mourn, and wonder why—

Why did they, out of everyone, have to die?

"Izaya," A raspy voice snaps the informant out of his thoughts, he slowly looks up from the pictures scattered out before him and up to his fathers face. His dad looks like he had not slept in days. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess, and his cloths looked like they were merely tossed on. He didn't care about his appearance.

"Are you listening to me, Izaya?"

The brunet gives a small nod before dragging his eyes away from his father and back to the pictures on the table.

He didn't know why his father had brought them along—pictures of his mother and his sister's corpses—but they weren't pretty. Maybe his father was trying to make him feel guilty, like this was his fault.

He had no idea why he father would think that but, then again, his father always favored the twins over him—always thinking that Izaya was mentally unstable, for some_ odd reason_.

"Yeah, I'm listening," Izaya murmurs.

"For funeral arrangements… I… I want you… to set them up."

Izaya pauses, "Why me?"

"You're good with these kinds of things.. Aren't you?" His father gives a strangled laugh and lifts a hand to scratch the back of his neck. When Izaya doesn't respond immediately, he slips a hand through his greasy locks as he sighs. He waits, eyeing his son for some kind of reaction.

"I'm an informant, dad. I'm not a memorial service." Izaya replies calmly, and he stands, beginning the gather the pictures. He stacks and holds them out to his father. "I would not have any idea how to start setting up a funeral, nor should I have to. You're our father—she's your wife—they're your daughter's, and I'm your son. You can't rely on me to take care of everything."

His father averts his eyes from the photos, staring down at a random spot on Izaya's carpet; and doesn't make a move to take the pictures from Izaya's grasp. Izaya lowers his arm with a sigh.

He knew that this was going to be hard for his dad. He had lost both of his daughters and his wife, but his dad had to realize that this was going to be just as hard for him, even if he wasn't showing it.

He didn't come off that heartless to people, did he?

He wasn't going to set up his family's funeral arrangements with a smile on his face, laughing at the stupidity of his mother getting into a car crash and killing his twin sister's— No. He was not _that_ heartless.

He missed them, so much, already. He would do anything—anything and everything—to trade spots with them. No one deserves to die so young; to die at such a naïve age. There was so much more in the world for them to look forward to… but they would never be able to see that now. And his mother would never be able to see them grow up into the wonderful girls they could have been.

"Don't be selfish," His father suddenly snaps. He doesn't look up from Izaya's carpet as he says this, not wanting to make eye contact with his son. Izaya, who starts at the sudden outburst, stares at his father with widened eyes.

"Selfish?" He repeats.

"Yes!" His dad continues, "All you care about is yourself, yourself, yourself, and your fucking job."

"If you think I don't care about what happened, you're an idiot."

"It's hard to, Izaya. You never came to visit or see them. You cut off connections with your own family and you expect me to think that you care? No, I just… I just think you're an ignorant child who needs to stop thinking about himself and care a little more about the people around him."

Izaya gaps, "They're my family!"

"You don't treat your family like that."

"Just because I didn't visit… that means I hate you? Is that what you're saying?"

His dad pauses for a moment, taking a quick glance up at his son before returning his gaze to the floor. "No… someone like you… could never care about another person."

Clenching his fists, Izaya growled, "Get out of my house."

With a sigh and a nod, the older Orihara grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on. He doesn't look up at Izaya once as he heads towards the door of Izaya's apartment.

Izaya was expecting a little more banter at least.

In an awkward way, he wanted his father to stay, even if that meant fighting with him. He wanted his company…

"There is something wrong with you, Izaya. You're messed up in the head,"

"Get the fuck out!"

The opening and slamming of a door was heard before a heavy silence falls over the apartment. Izaya stands there, trembling, still gripping the pictures of his dead family in his hand.

"How could you say that?" He whispers to the silence. "How could you say that I don't care?"

* * *

><p>Where the hell was he?<p>

It's been two weeks—two long, long, immensely long weeks of waiting for that damned flea to show his face in Ikebukuro. But what did Shizuo get? Nothing! At all. Ikebukuro was _slightly_ more peaceful.

At first he thought the flea might be avoiding him some how; like taking different routes to steer clear of Shizuo's presence. But then he heard that Shinra and Celty had not seen him for the past two weeks either.

It was strange.

Celty was more worried than he was. He had no clue why and he didn't want to question it, so he merely shrugged it off and reassured Celty that Izaya was (probably) fine. But Celty still insisted that she traveled to Shinjuku to visit Izaya, to check if the informant was alright. And with curiosity getting the better of him, Shizuo decided he wanted to ride along also. Not because he was worried about Izaya or anything! But he wanted to know if the flea was up to something, because being away for that long could only mean one thing—he was plotting. And if he had been plotting for two weeks, it had to be something big.

And Shizuo was not going to let him get away with it.

Celty picked him up after work the next day, pulling up next to him and Tom and holding out a black helmet to him.

Tom stared and mumbled something under his breath about 'Of course the Black Rider and Heiwajima Shizuo would know each other,' as Shizuo took the helmet and straddled the bike. Celty paused momentarily, waiting for Shizuo to adjust his helmet and get comfortable.

Shizuo could tell she was unsure about his decision. But it was final. If there was something wrong with Izaya, he promised _not_ to beat the shit of out him; if Izaya _was_ up to something, he told her he wouldn't hold in his anger. Not an ounce.

Shizuo sighed and tapped the Black Rider's helmet twice, silently telling her that he was ready to take off. And with a small shake of her head—helmet—thing, Celty kicked off of the ground and the bike roared into motion.

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><p><em>I would love to hear from you all.<em>


	3. It's Been A While

Upon their arrival, Shizuo mumbles curses to himself to whole way into the apartment. Celty doesn't pay attention to him since she can't even make out what he's saying, and she knows he's probably mutter insults about Izaya. You know. The usual.

When they enter the elevator she finally lifts her pointer to her helmet, silently telling him to 'shh.' Shizuo shuts up almost immediately; instead he thinks to himself while he glares at the doors of the elevator. Thinking to yourself was better than saying crap out loud, wasn't it?

He didn't know what to expect when he got up there. He had not planned out what he was going to do when he saw Izaya. He never did. Whenever he saw Izaya it was immediate anger. He never stopped to think about his actions or why Izaya was in Ikebukuro is the first place, but now that he was actually one going to visit Izaya instead of Izaya showing is ugly face in Ikebukuro (and he was about to confront Izaya about his plotting actions,) Shizuo took a moment to think.

What was he doing to do? What should he do? And what would be the best way to do it? Questions, questions, questions. So many questions that Shizuo had never asked himself; so many things that Shizuo didn't know about Izaya. Fuck. He could feel a migraine coming on.

Well, wasn't that something! Heiwajima Shizuo was giving himself a migraine.

The elevator gave an loud chim as it reached Izaya's floor. The metal doors opened way too slowly, in Shizuo's opinion, before Celty stepped out and he followed—hands in pockets and an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He eyed Izaya's apartment door from down the hall. He felt a wave of anger immediately pulsed through him. But before he could stomp over and kick down the informant's door while screaming a string of angry curses and insults, Celty steps in front of him, thrusting her cellphone in his face. Shizuo squints at it, leaning his head back to get a clearer view of the blur of words. They read, 'Don't go doing anything stupid. Remember why we're here.'

The ex-bartender grunts, but nods his head in agreement.

In agreement not to kick Izaya's door down, pff. But Celty didn't have to know that.

Turning on her heels, the headless rider headed towards Izaya's apartment door. She gave two firm knocks to the wood and waited. Shizuo followed, like usual, but after a few moments of nothing but silence emerging from inside of the apartment, Shizuo starts to tap his foot impatiently.

"The fuck is he?" He growls. Celty shakes her head and the tapping of buttons is heard before she holds up her screen to him. Shizuo doesn't even bother looking at it. He already knows what it's going to say; something about him needing to calm down and all that shit. He didn't need that right now. He knew he had to stay calm.

After another moment of silence Shizuo is about ready to kick the door down, but the door clicks and it opens slowly. Namie eyes both of them, her eyes dull and face lacking emotion like usual. She doesn't open the door more than a foot, merely sticking her head out to look them up and down.

"Izaya's not here," She states. And then slams the door in their faces.

A long and angry sounding "Haaaah?" sounds throughout the complexes hallway. And before Celty can react, Shizuo steps forward and slams his fist against the door. The wood shakes from the impact.

"Hey bitch, you don't even know why we came here!" He growls, pushing his face against the door and attempting to look through the peep hole. The door is suddenly thrown open, and Shizuo has lean back to keep himself from stumbling into the female; Celty seems to notice this also as she grabs onto the back of Shizuo's vest for extra support.

"What did you just call me?" Namie snaps, her voice lowered and cold. Just like her appearance.

"A bitch," Shizuo states. Not looking irked at the glare Namie sent him.

"You have no right to call me such names."

Shizuo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he ignored the fuming female in front of him and craned his neck to peer into the apartment.

"Where's Izaya?"

"I told you already. He's not here." She spits.

Shizuo opens his mouth to comment on Namie's bitchy attitude, but Celty steps forward, putting a hand on Shizuo's chest to push him back a few feet. Her fingers dance across her cellphone's keyboard.

'Do you know where he is?' it says when she holds it up for Namie to read.

Namie pauses, hesitating momentarily, before she shakes her head. But Shizuo catches the flicker of her eyes towards the staircase; even for him it was obvious.

With a sigh, Shizuo puts a hand on Celty's shoulder and steers her to the side of him.

"I'm coming in," he _states_. And Namie's eyes widened as Shizuo literally pushes his way into the apartment, almost sending the assistant to the floor in the process; but Celty jumps in and quickly grabs onto her arm before she can go tumbling backward. The rider reaches out to grab onto Shizuo also, to stop him, but the blond is already heading towards the stair case.

Namie and Celty scrambled after him; Celty typing wildly on her cellphone while Namie tries to get in front of him. He just shoves past the two, hiking his way up the stairs, leaving the girls behind him. He can still hear them rustling around, probably running up after him, but he doesn't really give two shits. His mind is set. He's not stopping.

"I-za-ya-kun~" he sings as he reaches the doorway to the master bedroom. He grips the handle, and smiles at the feeling of the metal crushing beneath his fingers. He quickly turns the knob and pushes the door open to reveal—

Izaya dressed in a black suit, his current attention on tying the gray tie wrapped around his thin neck. He doesn't even look up as he says, "Thank you for breaking my doorknob, Shizu-chan. I hope you're going to pay for the expenses to have it replaced."

Shizuo snorts, "Where are you going, flea? A mafia meeting or something?"

"Not today, actually," Izaya chuckles. He finishes adjusting his tie before he turns his body to face the blond. "But it is a nice suit, isn't it?"

"It doesn't matter how nice something looks, you always look disgusting to me."

Another chuckle, "You're quite the charmer, Shizu-chan."

Fuck, that nickname always pissed him off.

Before to blond even has the time to open his mouth with a retort, Izaya is moving past him—out of the room, through the doorway and into the hall. Shizuo growls and whips around, just managing to grab hold of the back of the informants suit before he can run down stairs.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Out," Izaya says, with a cocky grin added just for Shizu-chan.~

If he hadn't promised Celty that he wouldn't beat the crap out of Izaya, he would have punched him by now. Just that smile—that voice—that fucking face—they pissed him off to no end.

Shizuo yanks on the back of Izaya's suit, pulling the informant closer to him so he could grip Izaya's chin and force Izaya to come face to face with him. He glares down into those vermillion colored irises. "Out where?" He questions, but it sounds more like a demand to Izaya.

"None of your business, Shizu-chan."

"Tell me you fuckin' flea!"

"Stop this!" Namie's voice shouts from the staircase. Shizuo gives her a sideways glance before returning his eyes to Izaya.

"I want to know what he's planning," Shizuo sneers.

"Planning?" Izaya and Namie echo at the same time.

"Yeah.. planning. I know you're up to something and I'm not going to let you get away with it."

Laughter gurgles from Izaya throat almost instantly. "Hah.. ahaha… Really..? Is that what you think I've been up to?"

"Well, yeah… What else would you be doing?" Shizuo scoffs, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Celty finally takes her turn to step forward, holding her cellphone up for Izaya to read. And with a small nudge to his shoulder from the headless female, Shizuo releases Izaya's chin, immediately sinking his hands into his pockets so his doesn't feel the urge to break Izaya's nose.

'We were worried since we didn't see you as much in Ikebukuro.'

Izaya rubs his jaw as he reads over the message. He nods in understanding.

"I can see you were both really~ worried about me." He says. And, of course, his tone a melting with sarcasm. He takes a moment to adjust his suit while Celty types away on her phone, before she holds it up to him again.

'You know how Shizuo is… I didn't want to bring him along but he insisted so…'

Izaya resists the urge to roll his eyes.

"I'm fine. Your mission is complete. You can both remove yourselves now."

Neither of them move; both crossing their arms and staring Izaya down. Anyone else would have been intimidated by the gesture, but Izaya just shrugs and turns to head down to the first floor of his apartment. However, Celty holds an arm out in front of him; while behind him, he hears multiple cracks from Shizuo's knuckles.

"Why don't you tell us what you have been up to then?" Shizuo asks.

At the same time, after clearing the screen and re-typing a message, Celty holds up her cellphone to his face. He doesn't even bother looking at it.

That was it. That's all it took. People always thought he was up to no good. Alright, he might have done some fucked up things in the past but did people think he had to plot and scheme every single moment of his day? Couldn't he just be a normal human for once without people sticking their heads up his ass?

"It's none of your business," Izaya scoffs. "You have no right—_no fucking right_—to barge into my home and demand what I've been doing! You have no idea who I am or what I'm going through, so just get the fuck out of my house and stop bothering me. I have _enough_ on my shoulders as it is, and I don't need some_ idiots_ accusing me of things I'm not doing."

Silence follows Izaya's outburst. Namie looks shocked, the only expression besides dissatisfied on her face that anyone's ever seen. Celty lets her arm drop to her side and fiddles with her cellphone nervously, probably trying to think up a way of how to reply to _that_. Behind him, Shizuo remains silent. _Completely_ silent.

"Now I have someplace to be," Izaya breaths. He doesn't look anyone in the face as he rushes down the stairs and, not forgetting his signature coat, he rushes out of the apartment. Shizuo's curious brown eyes follow the informants' body until he disappears from sight.

"What was that..?" He mutters more to himself than the females. Then another long moment of silence falls over the three. Celty continues fiddling with her phone the entire time.

"I'll…" Namie sighs, running a hand through her long brunet strands. "I'll explain... "

She turns her back to the two and starts making her way down the steps. At the bottom of the stairs she throws a glance at them over her shoulder and gestures to the sofa. "I'll make some tea. Then we can sit down and discuss this situation."

* * *

><p><em>I was so happy that I got some reviews on the second chapter; and your reviews inspired me to type this up right away.<em>

_Keep the reviews coming you guys! I love hearing from you all._


	4. Crashing Down

After sitting in silence for almost fifteen minutes, Namie reenters the room with two cups of tea. She sets them both on the table in front of the 'guests' before taking her own seat on the love seat adjacent from them. Shizuo lifts the cup to his lips and takes a tiny sip, marveling at the bitter taste the sweeps over his tongue and down his throat. It wasn't the cheap tea he was used to buying. This had to be brand name stuff; he could tell from the taste. Celty doesn't touch her cup. Instead she folds her hands in her lap and turns to Namie, waiting for the woman to start explaining to them. Quite eager, wasn't she?

"You goin' to explain or what?" Shizuo asks, setting his cup down on the coffee table in front of him. Namie rubs the palms of her hands together in her lap, and her eyes flicker around the room before they land on Shizuo's own. She lets out a breathy sigh.

"Izaya's going through a lot right now." She says.

"Karma," Shizuo immediately whispers under his breath; which deserves a slap to his head from Celty. He scowls and sinks back into the cushions of the couch. After a moment of silence (which both the females stare at Shizuo angrily for interrupting), Celty nods for Namie to continue.

"Two weeks ago Izaya got news that his family had got into a car accident."

Both Shizuo and Celty physically tense.

"..What happen?" Shizuo asks, his usual raspy and loud voice was softened—sounding almost timid.

"His sisters, Mairu and Kururi, and his mother suffered severe injuries and burns to their bodies." Namie stands and moves around the table, continue to speak as she heads towards Izaya's desk. "Two days after the crash Izaya's dad came over and he brought these." After scuffling through one of Izaya's desk drawers for a moment, Namie heads back to the duo and drops a stack of pictures on the table.

Shizuo's eyes widened when he sees the first picture, and he almost starts heaving right then and there. The first picture is a smaller body; he can tell it's one of the twins but he's not sure which one because body parts are literally missing from the figure and their skin is burnt everywhere. There's no hair, no cloths, no nothing. All that he can see is the scorched red color of brunt skin and the muscles peeking through the bits of skin that are left.

Celty holds a hand up to her helmet (where her mouth would be if she had one) in shock. She reaches forward and slides the first picture out of the way to reveal the second picture. And at the sight of another dead corpse Shizuo stands and steps away from the table. His hands clutch at the front of his shirt as he tries to even out his breathing—trying to resist the urge to throw up.

"S-Shit.." He stammers.

Namie watches Shizuo for a minute, before she continues speaking.

"Izaya's father wanted Izaya to plan the whole funeral; but Izaya refused. His father got angry and left after saying some insulting things to him, like telling him that he was out of his mind or something like that."

"…Ha.. haha... Out of his mind." Shizuo couldn't help the dark chuckles that emerged.

"If a father shows his son dead pictures of his family, then.. who's the one out of his mind?"

It was fucked up. It was wrong. No father should ever do that to their son; no matter how fucked up their child may be; no matter what their child did—no one deserved that.

Nicotine. That was the only thing that could calm Shizuo's nerves right now.

Lifting his hand, in a waving gestured, Shizuo mumbled "Smoke," before he quickly made his way out of the complex. He couldn't hear any more of that shit. He wouldn't—couldn't see anymore. It was sick, and it made him nauseous.

Plucking a cigarette from the pack in the front pocket of his vest, Shizuo dug through the pockets of his trousers for his lighter. After fumbling with it for a few seconds, Shizuo growls and finally lights the stick. He breathes in that sweet nicotine, letting it settle in his lungs for a moment before letting in out through his nose. He leans against the side of Izaya's apartment, letting his lids fall shut and enjoy the nicotine running through his veins.

He didn't know what to think. This was too much to take in at once.

He hated the flea. And he would always hate him. But that didn't mean that he could not feel bad for the man. Izaya did lose most of his family after all. Shizuo does not know what Izaya's feeling, and he cannot even begin to imagine. …But what if that had been Kasuka who died? Would it be the same for him losing his brother as Izaya losing his sisters and mom? How would he take it? How would he feel?

Shizuo lips tighten on his cigarette, smashing the stick between his teeth and grinding them together.

* * *

><p>It may be a surprise to some, but this was the first funeral Izaya Orihara has ever attended. Though he had thought going to a funeral to watch how a person reacted to a loved one passing would be interesting—exciting to see his humans mourn over someone who is no longer in this world—that just wasn't the case today. Sure. He found it strange how the people who barely knew his sisters and his mother were crying the hardest; and how his dad greeted everyone with a gleeful smile and a bow, when Izaya knew he was the one hurting the most out of everyone; or how people were already starting to ingest alcohol, like this was some type of social get-together. This was a funeral, not a party.<p>

Izaya excused himself from the circle of people he was currently standing with and snuck over to the front of the room where the photos of the deceased sat on top of a large table, unlit candles surrounding the three frames. He stopped in front and let his vermillion eyes scan the three pictures—taking in the features of the twins and his mother; engraving them into his mind so he would never forget them.

"It's around now that someone would drop to their knees and whisper a pray to god or something like that, isn't it?" Izaya chuckled. "Even I, as an atheist, had the sudden urge to pray to you guys but I know you would never hear me." He continued. Slowly, he reached a hand forth to run his index along the top his mothers picture frame. "I mean—if you could hear me—I'd probably say something like I really miss you guys," Izaya paused, dropping his hand back to his side and lowering his eyes to the floor. He stared down at the stained red carpet, willing those awful tears to stay down—_just stay down _until he was alone. "..and that I wish I could take back all the things I did to you guys... and I really wish that you would forgive me."

A hand settled on his shoulder and Izaya jumped at the contact, and he peered over his shoulder at the new comer. His aunt smiled sadly back at him.

"Don't be too hard o' yourself," She said, her fingers massaging his shoulder lightly—comforting. "I'm sure none o' 'em hated ya. Ya _are_ their _family_ after all, an' ya were there for 'em when they needed ya."

All Izaya could do to reply is nod and mutter a quiet "Thank you." For once Izaya felt like he was at a loss of words, like he was not in control.

"I always liked ya the most." She continued with a small laugh, and released Izaya's shoulder to step next to him and let her hazel eyes switch from picture to picture, just like Izaya was doing not too long ago.

Izaya mocks a gasp of astonishment. "What a surprise! usually the adults think I was a horrible child. A child who didn't care about his parents and always played pranks."

"Isn't that th' best kind o' child?"

Izaya glances at her from the corners of his eyes, watching as her expression softens and she gazes over at the picture frames. Her eyes are glossy, but there are no tears. He can tell she's trying to hold it in; she's trying to be strong like him.

"If you're in to that kind of thing, I guess."

"Wholehearted an' free; never worryin' about what's goin' on around 'em… That's the type o' child I wish I had." She says, continuing to small sadly.

Izaya doesn't quite understand; but he still runs his palm in soothing circles along her back, and lets her cry on his shoulder when she can't stand looking at the picture of her dead sister any longer.

The funeral went on, Izaya mostly keeping to himself or comforting the few family members he knew there. He stuck around his aunt and her husband most of the night; seeing as those two were the only people who didn't seem to be completely out of their minds or bailing the whole funeral. Instead, they chatted about the good times, told him a lot of things he didn't even know about his mother; and a lot of things she did as a child. It made him smile.

But soon enough it was time for people to pack up and leave, many people were going to his aunt's house, for an aftermath sort of thing—but he guessed it was more of a party, where people would get drunk and cry even more than they had at the funeral, because alcohol tended to make people emotional. Izaya refused with a polite smile, telling them that he was going to stay after and help clean up the place with his father.

Neither Izaya nor his father spoke as they cleaned; neither even looked at each other. It was as if they were nonexistent to one another.

It was a battle. They were both refusing to give in and show that he was weaker—that he was wrong and it was his duty to apologize.

But they were family—

And family was not supposed to be like this. Family was not supposed to blame one another and push each other way.

"Dad," Izaya stops gathering garbage to look at his father. He almost winced at how high-pitched his voice sounded to his own ears. After a moment of silence, where Izaya's dad continues picking up abandoned cups, Izaya guesses that his father is refusing to take notice of him. He clears his throat before he continues.

"I'm sorry for what happen the other day."

His dad stops gathering cups and turns his upper body to look at his son, before he gives a nonchalant shrug and turns back to what he was doing.

Izaya frowns. That's _it_?

He didn't even know if his apology was accepted or not, old bastard.

"..So?" Izaya inquires.

"So what?" His father grunts.

"You don't have anything to say?"

His father stops what he's doing once again. Without turning to face Izaya, he groans and rubs his temples. "What do you want me to say?"

"I'm not going to tell you what to say." The brunet sighs, tying the top of his garbage bag and lifting it over his shoulder. "When you have yourself pulled together: call me. I'm done cleaning up."

He walks (more like jogs) right out of the funeral home, with the garbage bag over his shoulder hitting him in the back with every leap he takes. For a moment—just a moment—he thinks his father calls out to him, and that maybe he should stop and see what he has to say. But his mind doubts this is true; doubts that his douche bag of a father is actually worried about him and wants to apologize. Hah. If his dad had something to say, Izaya knew it was going to be something insulting.

The brunet stopped momentarily to throw the garbage bag in a bin; then turns and draws in a great breath of air before he blots down the street, running as fast as his lanky legs could take him.

If it was one thing Izaya loved more than his job—it was running.

It was the one thing that could clear his mind; keep him at ease. Because he knew, when he was running, nothing could get him, no one could keep up with him, and no one could catch him.

He loved the feeling of the air swishing around his body. He loved the burn in his lungs and ribs when he had been running for too long. He loved running until he legs felt tingly and numb, until they couldn't take him any further.

* * *

><p>When Namie got done explaining details to Celty, the headless rider bowed to the assistant, thanked her for filling them in on the situation, and made her way outside to find Shizuo. A single drop of water hit the top of her helmet as she stepped outside. Celty tilted her helmet to the sky, and her shoulders drooped when several others made contact with her black helmet. She drew out her phone to tell Shizuo that they'd better head home right now if they wanted to avoid the rain—and then stopped, standing in silence as she took in the Shizuo-less surroundings. Truthfully, she was not surprised that debt-collector was not outside waiting for her. She waved it off, guessing Shizuo's anger got to him again and probably stomped himself home.<p>

About fifty percent of that hypothesis was actually correct, since Shizuo did stomped away out of anger but he didn't stomp _home_. He didn't know where he was going exactly; but somewhere in the back of his mind Shizuo was hoping he would run into Izaya. _For once_.

It was idiotic—he knew it was. And it was so unlike him. But he felt like he was cursed; like something was willing his body to find Izaya—willing him to apologize to him, and maybe ask how he was doing and if he was alright.

How he was expecting to find Izaya when he didn't know where the funeral was being held or when it was ending?

Shizuo asked himself the same question a million times.

Shizuo lit another cigarette as he strode down the sidewalks of Shinjuku, taking in the unfamiliar details of every complex, building, and small shop. The sky had started to darken a while ago, and it had started drizzling just after Shizuo's departure from Izaya's apartment. Small rain drops stained Shizuo vest and shirt with small, wet dots. Through blue lenses he watched as citizens scattered, quickly trying to run or bike home before the rain could become more labored. Many people were crowded around the crosswalk in front of him, anxiously waiting for the light to change so they can cross.

Shizuo resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's _only_ water.

He stops behind the crowd of people, pulling the cigarette from between his lips to let of a puff of smoke. When the light finally turns people begin rushing across the street, pushing past one another rudely. With narrowed eyes, Shizuo settles the cancer stick between his lips once more, before he slowly following after the crowd, taking his time.

And that's when he notices him.

On the sidewalk diagonal from his, he spots the fur-trimmed coat and the brown spiky and now slightly damp tresses. And he was… running. Why on earth was he running?

Shizuo quickly presses people aside to make his way towards Izaya. People glared at him and scowled but Shizuo ignored them, his attention on catching up to the smaller figure quickly descending down the street. He jogs after the informant, keeping a safe distance behind him but keeping an eye on him at the same time; mostly because Shizuo was curious on why Izaya was running and where the fuck he was going.

When Izaya finally stopped (after at least four more blocks since Shizuo started following him) the brunet doubled over, clenching his aching side and taking in large amounts of air to settle the rapid beating of his heart. Shizuo, on the other hand, quickly ducked into an alley, sneaking glances at Izaya from around the corner.

"Fuck!" Izaya gasps.

Shizuo raises a skeptical eyebrow. He had never heard Izaya swear before.

Izaya runs a hand through his damp locks as a small fit of laughter consumes his body. He tilts his head towards the sky, smiling up at the crying clouds.

"Shizu-chan..?" He whispers, his voice sounding raw, yet soft at the same time. Shizuo's breathe catches in his throat when Izaya slowly turns his head towards the alley he is in. "Why are you following me?"

* * *

><p><em>I'm sorry if this chapter seems so OOC. I had some difficulties while writing Izaya's and Shizuo's characters.<em>

_But I would still love to hear from you!_


	5. Raise the Stakes

"Hey, beautiful!" Shinra booms as the headless woman enters their home. She gives a small nod of acknowledgment to the doctor, and rounds the corner of the hallway, taking large and quick steps towards her room. Shinra frowns. Usually he would have gotten a _bittersweet punch_ to the gut if he welcomed her home that way.

"Celty~!" He calls down the hall way, his hands cupped around his mouth as if it would further extend his shouting. "What's wrong, Celty~?"

The Dullahan closes her bedroom door and leans against in, her shoulders drooping as she lifts the motorbike helmet from her head. She had no idea if she should tell Shinra yet; or even anyone for the matter. Really, she had expected not to care about Izaya's feelings, because he was... well… the controller of feelings, of sorts.

The knock that sounds behind her makes her jump, and she would have screamed out loud from surprise if she was able to. Through the door she could hear Shinra still asking if she was alright, and if she wanted to come out and talk to him about it, and then asked her if she was mad at him—and if she was, she could punch him in the gut as many times as she wished.

Celty inwardly sighed and opened the door slowly, revealing a Shinra with his hand in mid-knock. He chuckled nervously and lowered his arm, but his smile never faded—like always. Neither speaks at first, just merely standing in front of each silently. She supposes Shinra is waiting for her to explain, since he obviously had run out of questions to ask while pounding on her door and rambling off nonsense.

Bringing her cell phone out from her sleeve, she begins to type the story out for the doctor, making sure not to leave any detail that Namie had told her out. She didn't know why she wanted to tell Shinra so bad; but it was an urge—she felt the doctor needed to know. Just in case. Just in case…

* * *

><p>Izaya's run to blow off some of the 'family hate' had been going swell. <em>Had been<em>. Until Izaya noticed a familiar blond clad in a bartender suit following him. Really? Did he have to make it so obvious? The huge brute was literally ducking behind garbage bins and diving into allies every time Izaya took a peak over his shoulder.

It was amusing. Very amusing actually, but it still made Izaya raise a curious eyebrow and wonderful if Shizu-chan was trying a new sneak attack approach instead of his usual screaming Izaya's name and chucking heavy metal objects at his cranium. It certainty would be a more intelligent approach, but not when he was making in so obvious.

And it didn't help that Izaya's lungs felt like they were going to burst at any minute.

He headed down another block before he stopped, reaching a hand to his side to massage the strained muscles, and trying to even out his breathing as best he could. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as Shizuo ducks into the nearest alley. Typical.

"Fuck!" He gasps, glaring down at the wet cement beneath him. And, shit, if Shizuo was planning on chasing him now he wouldn't be able to get that far in the condition he was in.

He lifted his body, wincing as the muscles of his sides and legs strained, and gave a small laugh, tilting his head to the sky and letting his lids droop shut. Tiny drops of rain landed on his cheeks and eyelids before the rolled down the side of his face, dripping wherever the pleased.

"Shizu-chan..?" He asks, and tilts his head towards the alley Shizuo had been hiding in, just getting a glimpse of Shizuo's shocked expression before he sinks behind the wall again. Izaya resists a chuckle.

"Why are you following me?"

When he's greeted by nothing but silence, Izaya has to cease from rolling his eyes; while thinking something along the lines of Shizuo being a dumbass for pretending Izaya hadn't seen him, that stupid brute. He slowly steps over to the alley, eying the corner of it suspiciously, expecting Shizuo to jump out at any moment and crush him with a garbage bin. But instead of the usual scrap of metal Izaya was expecting to fly out of the alley - when he turned the corner of the alley, with a smile on his face and standing on his toes, ready to dart if he had to, he received a fist to the side of his jaw. And the sudden punch drew out a _not-so-girly_ but _not-so-Izaya_ sort of shriek from the informant as he stumbled backward, almost tripping over his own feet.

Shizuo stomped out of the alley, fists clenched and teeth grinding.

"The fuck, flea?" He growled.

"That's what I should be saying." Izaya spat, while poking a finger at his split lip and frowning.

"Shut the fuck up." Shizuo spat back. "I punched you out of habit."

"Out of habit?" Izaya laughed. Despite the smiling tugging at his lips, his eyebrows furrowed in an irritated manner;he didn't want to deal with Shizuo's senselessness right now. "I didn't know punching me has become a hobby for you, Shizu-chan."

"I didn't come here to beat you up."

Interesting.

"Oh~? And what did you come here to do to me?" Izaya sang, jutting his hips out to one side and tilting his head at the blond as if he was actually interested in what he had to say.

He was intrigued actually. This game was new; and in a way, Izaya enjoyed Shizuo presence at times, since the ex-bartender was so unpredictable. "And I should also be inquiring why you were following me in the first place, again; since you still have not answered that; but I'm sure both of my questions fall into the same category, ne?"

Izaya took in the way Shizuo's fists tightened with a smirk, but didn't make any move to comment on it, a-waiting the blondes answer.

"Well…" Shizuo falters, his coffee colored irises averting to the side for a moment, and a look of confusion comes over his expression.

"I… I…" He stutters. He pauses and knits his eyebrows.

"Get on with it," Izaya snaps.

"I…" Another pause.

"Shizu-chan, I don't have time for this."

"Would you just shut the fuck up for five minutes?" Shizuo snarls. Izaya's smirk drops, and his vermillion eyes narrow into slits. His right hand blindly feels around the inside of his suit pocket, winding his digits around his switch blade when he finds it.

Shizuo seems to be more cautious than usual because his eyes immediately dart down to Izaya's fiddling hand, and Izaya can tell that Shizuo knows. It's pretty obvious actually; they have been through this a million times. The blond steps forward quickly, extending a large hand to grab Izaya's arm; but Izaya jumps back, whipping his knife out of his pocket and holding it out in front of him defensively.

"Izaya," Shizuo warns, hesitantly taking another step forward.

"Shizu-chan," Izaya remarks, using the same tone Shizuo had just used with him. This was childish and it was getting out of hand—even Shizuo could tell that much.

Without warning, Shizuo launches at Izaya, quickly wrapping his fingers around the brunet's wrist, and squeezing it until Izaya gasps and drops his knife; which clumsily clatters on the cement beneath them. Izaya keeps struggling against the bruising hold against his wrist; and lifts one of his legs to bring it down on Shizuo's knee-cap. The blond, in return, lets out a frustrated groan—and he could have sworn he heard a crack—but he doesn't budge. Instead he struggles and fights to get a hold of Izaya's other hand; which has chosen now to start hitting him in the jaw repeatedly.

Irritating. Irritating. _Irritating_.

After failing to snatch Izaya's flailing arm, and with a frustrated roar, Shizuo wraps his not-occupied arm around the informant's neck and traps Izaya between the appendage and his chest; pulling the informant close to his torso so their bodies were literally squished against one another. Shizuo tries to ignore to close proximity of him and his arch enemy. He stares down at the brunet and watches as Izaya's nose wrinkles in distaste against the shoulder of Shizuo's vest.

"Would ya just stop moving and listen to me?" Shizuo asks, staring down at Izaya through blue lenses. Izaya's eye snap up to meet Shizuo's momentarily before they avert to somewhere of to the side. Izaya's scoffs.

"I _was_ listening before, but you were taking up a horrid amount of time trying to spit out whatever you wanted to say." He pushes his free arm's palm against the flat of Shizuo's stomach, trying to push the blond away, at least a little bit, since he was currently way too close for Izaya's comfort. When Shizuo doesn't budge in the slightest, he sighs and lets his arm drop to his side.

"Then listen to me now." Shizuo says.

"Not like I have a choice," Izaya motions to Shizuo and himself with his free arm. "I'm kind of… stuck."

Shizuo blinks. "Ah…"

"Well, get on with it. I don't have time to be standing here with a brute like you clinging to me all day."

Shizuo pushes back the anger that threatens to over boil in him; taking deep breaths and closing his eyes, trying to focus on the drops of rain failing against his lashes and cheeks, rather than Izaya's annoying ass voice.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Shizuo grunts, a little too quickly and under-toned. Izaya raises a thin eyebrow, and looks up at the blond; who, in return, snaps his gaze away from Izaya's face. He feels his cheeks heat up unwillingly from the informant's intense stare.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry. For, ya'know.. your sisters. And your mom... I'm sorry."

Shizuo's surprised by Izaya's laughter, and how the informant pushes his face into his shoulder and continues to laugh, his shoulders vibrating against Shizuo's arm.

It's hysterical, really. Izaya had never imagined—never, in his whole life—imagined that Ikebukuro's infamous monster, Shizuo Heiwajima, would be sympathizing for _him. _It was absurd, ridiculous, and **unbelievable**.

So Izaya squished his head against Shizuo's shoulder and laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

"Ahahaha… You have got—oh god, pfahahaha!— to be kidding me..!" He says in-between his fit of giggles. Shizuo's eyebrow twitches.

"I don't see what's so funny," he growls, unintentionally tighten his grip around the back of Izaya's neck. The brunet simply raises his head with a smile.

"Think about it Shizu-chan~" Izaya whispers gleefully, squeezing his free arm between himself and Shizuo so he could pat the ex-bartenders cheek, in what looked like a tender manner, before he broke into hysterics again. "It's almost like you're actually caring about my feelings."

Shizuo's silent for a moment, simply standing there and listening to Izaya's quiet laughter until it stops all together; and then brunet continues to try and pry himself away from Shizuo. But the blond was having none of that.

"I can care about other people too, ya'know." Shizuo says softly, but there's still a hint of malice in his voice. "I'm not just about smashing things and beatin' the fuck out of you; I'm much, much more than that, flea. And even for a prick like you—who I fuckin' hate more than anything and anyone else in the entire universe—I still feel bad because you're still human deep down inside. We all are."

"You disappoint me, Shizu-chan. I can't believe you're going all soft on me." Izaya says, and wriggles against Shizuo's hold. Shizuo opens his mouth to make another retort before a shrill and high-pitched, yet happy scream sounds from behind Shizuo. Izaya lifts his head to peer over Shizuo shoulder to see Erika jabbing a finger in their direction and tugging at a facepalming Walker's sweater sleeve with wide brown eyes, and in her other hand she's holding some bright pink umbrella with some-unknown anime girl printed across the top of it.

"See, Walkerrrrr, I told you! They're hugging! See, see!" Erika shouts, still jabbing and pointing a finger even when Shizuo releases Izaya and turns to see what all the commotion is about. Walker shakes his head and refusing to look up at the 'hugging men' from his facepalm.

"It's everything I've ever dreamed of and so much more." She continues, bringing a hand to her face to whip away a false tear. "So~ beautiful."

"Please stop," Walker groans. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Shizuo and Izaya both fall silent; both staring at the new comers with faces devoid of emotion, as their minds try desperately to connect what just happened and what on earth Karisawa was talking about. Well, one of them, at least.

"I never understand what you're talking about," Shizuo speaks first, his mouth and nose wrinkling in confusion, and maybe a hint of disgust and his glares over at the two. The glare makes Walker take an uneasy step back, but Erika just continues to smile at them—very brightly.

"Don't be so naïve, Shizu-chan. It isn't that hard to figure out." Izaya snickers from behind him. When Shizuo stays silent and merely continues to glare at the otaku duo, Izaya snickers agian and continues, "Are you really _that_ much of a neanderthal?"

"Fuck you," Shizuo snaps, turning his gaze away from Walker and Erika to scowl at Izaya. "I don't understand the fuck you or them are saying about half the time, and it pisses me off."

"Ne~? It's not our fault you're unintelligent and can't understand our large vocabulary, Shizu-chan. You should have paid more attention in school."

"I would have been able to pay more attention if you hadn't sent gangs after me and pissed me off all the time."

"Well, maybe, you should learn how to control your temper."

"Maybe you should stop being a fuckin' asshole."

Izaya gasped, bringing a hand to his chest in mock hurt and pouting. "Shizu-chan is so cruel!"

"Only to you, flea," he spits back, and turns to face the otaku duo once more. Again Walker cowers from Shizuo's intense stare as Erika stands there and keeps smiling at them. It's kind of creepy, to both of them, actually.

"Scram." He growls.

Erika pouts, "Bu.. but what if you start getting to the good stuff right when I leave? I don't want to miss it."

All the while Walker is tugging are Erika's sleeve murmuring things like, "Shizuo's going to kill us," and "I don't want to watch them have a butt sex, Karisawa!"

* * *

><p><em>I did not proofread this chapter at all, so forgive me for any awful grammar and feel free to point it out to me, if there is any.<em>

_I'm trying to update quickly for all my wonderful alerters, favoriters, and especially my reviewers. Because I love each and every one of your reviews and they make me smile all big and cheesy-like. Ahurr._


	6. Tell Me A Lie

With a roll of her eyes Erika shrugs at the older men, and then starts jabbing Walker in the side a number of times. Her smile continues to widen – if it was possible for her smile to get any bigger. "Hey, you never know, if you watch them maybe you'll come to like it too!"

Walker lets out a nauseated groan and tugs the umbrella out of his best friend's hand. Erika sticks out her bottom lip as Walker moves away from Shizuo and Izaya, cautiously however. Erika follows, being forced to stay under the umbrella unless she wanted to get drenched by rain water.

"Aw, c'mon Walker! You need to loosen up!"

"No thanks," He snorts, forcing Erika across the street with him and glancing back at the dangerous duo. Before they disappear from the two, Erika throws a wink back at them and mouths something that Shizuo can't make out from the distance, but he hears Izaya snicker, yet again. This makes his eyebrows knit.

Silence follows Erika's and Walker's departure.

Izaya sighs and leans down to pick his knife up from the sidewalk, flipping it closed and stuffing it into his jacket pocket. Shizuo turns and watches him, silently, at a loss of what to say because of the sudden, and short, yet awkward interruption. He opens and closes his mouth a few times. Why was it so damned hard to talk to him?

Izaya turns his back to Shizuo and starts down the sidewalk with long strides. The only sign Izaya gives that he's leaving is when he throws his hand over his shoulder in a waving gesture.

"Thank you, Shizu-chan," he calls over his shoulder. "I appreciate you sympathizing for me; it's very kind!"

Shizuo gulps and watches Izaya's back until it's no longer viewable through the rain pouring around them. He wants to run after him, maybe hit him a few times, and spit insults at him. But the lack of reason of doing that, and the throbbing in his knee, tells him otherwise.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you're okay?"<p>

Izaya blinks, pausing in mid-type and looking over the top of his laptop at the wall adjacent from him. He presses his lips together, letting the other's question sink in for a moment.

How many times have people asked him that over the past few days? It was ridiculous.

"Hm?" he replies, using his shoulder to press his cell phone closer to his ear. "Of course I'm fine!" he laughs. "What made you think I wasn't?"

The other end of the phone is awkwardly silent.

"I promise," Izaya presses. "I would tell you if I wasn't. You know I would."

"You never tell me anything, Izaya. And that's why I had to find out about your family from Celty."

"It's not a big deal," Izaya chuckles. He turns his gaze from the wall to glare down at the keyboard of his desktop for no particular reason. His head hurts. He needs some Tylenol.

"I know we're not as close as we used to be but it would still be nice to hear about things like _this_ from _you_."

"Who cares who you hear it from? It's going to be the same thing whether you hear it from Celty or me."

"But it's personal!" the doctor protests.

Izaya sighs, "So?"

"…So?"

"I don't know why you're so frustrated about it. It's not that big of a deal." Izaya continues calmly.

"Your family is dead, Izaya!"

"You say it as if I don't know that already."

"Do you not care?"

Izaya fingers curl and tighten around the side of his keyboard, the corner of his palm pressing the enter button and making the computer 'beep' continually before he sighs, calming his inner-rage, and loosens his grip on his keyboard.

"What?" he asks, his voice sounding breathless to his own ears.

"I wouldn't be surprised, Izaya," Shinra says. "A lot of people are saying how calm you have been acting about it. Even Shizuo—"

"People!" Izaya's voice booms, and then he laughs. He pushes himself away from his desk, his chair rocking as his body contorts in ripples of laughter. The other end falls silent. And Izaya can just imagine the idiotic look Shinra must have on his face. "People talk shit, Shinra, you should know that."

Shinra waits for Izaya's laughter to subside before he replies, "That is my opinion, also."

"You think that I don't care?"

"At times, it seems as though you don't. So yes, I can't help but think you don't give a shit about what's happening."

Izaya frowns, his shoulders drooping slightly. He doesn't reply immediately to the doctor.

Shinra sighs into the phone. "I've known you for a long time, Izaya. And at first I thought you would get over yourself at some point, and move on, and actually start creating a life for yourself. But you haven't grown up at all; you're still the same person I knew in high school."

There was more silence; long and drawn-out and awkward. Izaya pulls the phone away from his ear, his thumb hovering over the "End" button. He didn't know how long he sat there, staring at his phone. He felt empty. He couldn't think straight. He desperately tried to think of which option to follow—either hang up on Shinra or come up with some sort of retort.

Slowly, he brought the phone back to his ear, clearing his throat before he spoke.

"Is that so?" he says.

"I thought you had hung up on me for a moment," Shinra chuckles, his voice swapping back into its cheerful tone.

"I have every right to hang up on you," Izaya replies calmly.

"I'm sorry, Izaya. I just… well, you know when I get serious about something I talk rubbish."

"Yeah,"

"Don't take it too personally. It's just words—those have never had an effect on you before."

Izaya furrows his eyebrows. The pain that had been lingering in his chest the past few days seems to double suddenly. Izaya gasps at the sudden pain.

"Izaya..?"

And the sudden urge to drop to the ground and cry his eyes out overcomes his whole body. The beginnings of tears start to well in his eyes, but he blinks them away quickly and uses the end of his sleeve to whip away the strays that roll down his cheeks.

"…Are you alright?" Shinra's voice sounds so far away to him.

"I.." Izaya sobs. "I just—I can't…"

Izaya pushes himself away from the desk and quickly presses the "End" button on his cell phone before he lets it drop from his hand. It clacks nosily against the floor.

The tears don't stop, continuing to fall despite the fact that he mummers to himself, "Stop it, just stop it," in an attempt to force himself to stop crying. He continues to whip them away with the sleeve of his shirt, before he gives up entirely and presses the flats of his palms against his eyes and cheeks. His leans forward in his chair, arching himself until he feels his arms press against the top of his thighs. He lets the tears flow freely; his body quavering with gasps and sobs.

From the top of the staircase Izaya's assistant watches silently; and, for once, she feels something akin to sympathy wash over her as she watches her boss weep for his deceased family.

* * *

><p>"I wouldn't be surprised, Izaya," Shinra says. "A lot of people are saying how calm you have been acting about it. Even Shizuo—"<p>

Across from Shinra, Shizuo gives a light snort. Shinra gives a quick glance at him before he leans back and listens to Izaya speak.

"People! People talk shit, Shinra, you shoulder know that."

Beside him, Celty holds up her phone for him to read but he waves it away carelessly, trying to focus on his and Izaya's conversation. It was showing to be harder than he thought though, with Celty continuously holding up her cell phone to his face and Shizuo making groans and grunts from the other couch.

"That is my opinion, also." She says after Izaya finishes his laugh.

"You think that I don't care?"

After the umpteenth time of Celty holding up her phone to him, he finally looks over at it.

'Put it on speaker. We want to hear what he has to say too!'

Shinra sighs, momentarily pulling the phone away from his face to press the speaker button. He immediately holds up his pointer in front of his lips, motioning for both of them to stay silent.

"At times, it seems as though you don't. So yes, I can't help but think you don't give a shit about what's happening." Shinra says.

Silence follows Shinra's sentence. Shinra and Shizuo raise an eyebrow curiously at this. And seeing this as an opportunity, Shinra continues quickly.

"I've known you for a long time, Izaya. And at first I thought you would get over yourself at some point, and move on, and actually start creating a life for yourself. But you haven't grown up at all; you're still the same person I knew in high school."

Another silence follows. It was longer than the last. Shinra continues to look at the phone to check if Izaya was still on the line and frowning when he saw that he was. He stays silent though, waiting patiently for the other burnet to speak.

"Is that so?" Izaya's voice suddenly cracks through the receiver.

"I thought you had hung up on me for a moment," Shinra chuckles.

"I have every right to hang up on you,"

"I'm sorry, Izaya. I just… well, you know when I get serious about something I talk rubbish."

Shinra presses the speaker button again, shutting it off and putting the phone against his ear. Celty tugs on his arm silently, and Shizuo glares at his from across the room. When Shinra doesn't seem to cower under Shizuo's stare, Shizuo merely rolls his eyes. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it as he continues to watch the phone, as if he can still hear them talking. Though, Celty continues tugging on him.

"Yeah," Izaya says quietly; softly. It's just audible enough for Shinra to hear him.

Shinra frowns. Did he actually get though to Izaya? "Don't take it too personally. It's just words—those have never had an effect on you before."

Celty tilts her head as Shinra slowly pulls the phone away from his ear and stares at it, his blue orbs wide.

Across from them, Shizuo takes a long drag from his cigarette. "He probably said something asshole-ish. Because he's an asshole."

"No…" Shinra whispers. An expression of worry washes over his features. "I think he's crying."

* * *

><p><em>I'm so sorry! I'm sorry for the late update and this lame chapter. I re-wrote this chapter about a billion times and I still hate it. The next chapter will be up quicker, and it will be longer and waaay better. I PROMISE. ;w;<em>

_Review, PLEASE? Reviews make me update faster._


	7. Promise

"What should we do?" Shizuo's rough voice breaks the silence that had fallen over the three. Shinra lifts his head to eye the blond across from him, his lips pursing in thought before he decides to reply.

"There's nothing we can do," the doctor says. He sighs and sets the phone onto the coffee table in front of him. "He's Izaya. He won't listen to anything we say, and he'll continue on doing what he likes. We don't have to do anything and we shouldn't have to. Izaya's a big boy now; I'm sure he's quite capable of taking care of himself."

Shizuo fiddles with his removed sunglasses. "Well..." he starts, and his eyebrows knit in a way that makes him look like he's having an inner battle with himself. "If that were to happen to me, I would want my friends to comfort me."

"Oh yeah?" Shinra muses with a raised eyebrow. "And since when have you viewed Izaya as one of your friends?"

"Not me!" Shizuo shouts; absentmindedly he tightens his fist around the sunglasses in his palm and they give a soft crack. "I mean... your Izaya's friends, right?"

"I guess," Shinra says quietly. Shizuo's watches as Shinra and Celty exchanged some kind of telepathic glance with each other, before Shinra slowly moves his head back to pear at Shizuo, a smile pulling at his lips. Celty moves from the couch to Shizuo's side, removing the broken glasses from his hand before shuffling into the kitchen, leaving the gentlemen to speak alone as she tossed the broken glasses in the garbage.

"You should do something to help him then." Shizuo says.

"Like what?" the brunet laughs, throwing his arms out at his sides and giving an exaggerated shrug. "I don't know the first thing about Izaya, and I have no idea what to talk to him about or how to make him feel better. I just made him cry, Shizuo! _I _made Orihara Izaya_ cry_!"

Shinra's shoulders shake lightly in a manner that looks like he's trying to hold in his laughter. He drops back onto the couch, bringing a hand to his head and rubbing at his aching temples.

"What am I supposed to do?" the doctor continues. "Am I supposed to sit him down and have a serious man to man talk about his mental health?"

Shizuo sighs, but doesn't say anything. Why did he feel this way? It was like all hatred for the flea was suddenly stripped from him and replaced with guilt. He couldn't think about the flea without the thought of Izaya's dead sister's popping into his head. Of course the flea still pissed him off, and he still hated everything about him, and he felt like more than half of Ikebukuro's problems were results from Izaya's plotting. He would always think that way. But... but something was different.

He didn't like the thought of Izaya crying.

It was so not-Izaya, and it made Shizuo's stomach churn uneasily.

"A lot of people think he deserves it, you know..." Shinra whispers, almost to himself more than to Shizuo. But his eyes staring into Shizuo's own assures Shizuo that Shinra is speaking to him. Shizuo doesn't have the time to even think up a reply before Shinra continues. "Izaya Orihara, said to be one of the strongest men in Ikebukuro; a devil, a manipulator. Some says it's karma, and others say that people actually planned to kill his family as revenge against something Izaya did to them."

Shizuo's lips part but no noise comes out. When Shinra merely continues to stare at Shizuo, Shizuo lowers his eyes to the floor, wide and assertive; while his lips pull into a grimace.

"No one deserves that,"

"Really?" Is Shinra's immediate response. He almost sounds amused.

"That may be some people's opinions," Shizuo scoffs. He raises his head from the floor to glare at Shinra. The doctor continues to smile, as if he's not threatened at all by Shizuo's narrowed eyes. "But I think a human life is very valuable. And even if it is the flea, I don't think anybody deserves to lose a family member."

"Even though Izaya has probably cost thousands of people their family members also?"

Shizuo stands suddenly. "Izaya has never killed someone. Yeah! He's a fuckin' thorn in my side, and he has a high God-complex but —" Shizuo pauses, a growl emerging from his throat. "Just think of it like you losing Celty... that's probably what Izaya's going through right now."

Shinra's smile drops immediately, and his eyes snap towards the kitchen where Celty busies herself with making Shinra's dinner.

"Imagine the pain you would be in," Shizuo snaps.

Shizuo removes himself from their apartment quickly. He was always one to get angry easily, and even though Shinra wasn't intentionally trying to piss him off (or so he thought) he still found himself boiling over the simplest things Shinra was saying, even if some of the things he was saying did make sense.

Half way down the block, Shizuo feels a small tug on his wrist. He glances back over his shoulder to find a cellphone shoved in his face, with words that read 'I want to help Izaya too. I have a plan, but I need your help.'

Slowly his mocha eyes move from the glowing screen to the yellow and blue helmet perched atop Celty's neck. He watches quietly as a passing cars headlights reflect across the front of it before they disappear around the side. He gives one, stiff nod.

"What did you have in mind?"

* * *

><p><em>From: Sturluson Celty<em>

_Subject: Russian Sushi!_

_Message: I know this may not be a good time and sorry sorry sorry if you're busy, but Shinra and I have discovered something weird going on in Ikebukuro and we wanted to know if you would meet us at Russian Sushi tomorrow to discuss it with us. Please! It's very important! We'll be there at 6:00 PM. Don't be late! And we'll pay for anything you want, just make sure to show up._

Izaya reads over the message once more. Something weird? How could something weird being going on in his favorite town without him knowing?

He had a meeting with Shiki tomorrow, but she did seem eager to talk to him. He could always set the meeting to a later date and go. But Shiki always got angry whenever Izaya canceled their meetings, and said things likes he didn't trust him as his informant and all that.

Izaya sighs.

"Namie!" he calls, his voice sounding sickly sweet even to his own ears. Namie's head emerges from the kitchen with a ugly frown pulled across her face.

"What?" she says, gruffly.

"Can you do me a favor, sweetie?~"

Namie's lip curls upwards. She steps out of the kitchen's entrance and crosses her arms, her hips jutting out to one side as she gives Izaya a cold, cold, oh so cold stare. "It depends what it is. And if you ever call me sweetie again, I'll ring your neck."

"No, don't worry, it's nothing bad." Izaya chuckles halfheartedly. "I just need you to call Shiki-san and inform him that I'm busy tomorrow and I will not be able to attend our meeting."

"Am I to make up an excuse myself or do you have your own excuse that you would like for me to give to him?"

"Hm..." Izaya taps his chin, pressing his lips together and turning his back to the women to peer out of his office window. He stays like that for a few moments, tapping and his chin and thinking.

"...Well?"

"Just make something up, ne?"

Namie sighs and with narrowed eyes she shuffles towards the Orihara household's phone.

As she makes the call to Shiki, Izaya quickly replies to Celty's text.

_To: Sturluson Celty_

_Subject: Russian Sushi here I come!~_

_Message: Oh, how nice of you two to think of me while I'm away.~ Of course I'll be able to make it, and I'll hold you up on that offer but I warn you! I eat a lot more than you guys would think I do. I'll be there at 6. See you then._

He smiles as he sends the text.

"I'm been craving some ootoro," he sings. "Sushi always knows how to brighten my mood."

After Namie hangs up from her conversation with Shiki, she snorts and flips Izaya off. "If you keep eating all that tuna you're going to get fat."

"Wah, how cruel!" Izaya pouts. "Nothing can ruin this figure," he says, using both hands to gesture up and down his body.

Namie stares at him, then looks him up and down freely.

"I like my men with a little more muscle."

* * *

><p><em>"Iza-nii!" Mairu whines, continuing to tug on the sleeve of Izaya's school uniform as he walks them to school. "These kids are so mean to Kururi and me! You have to beat them up!"<em>

_"Do I?" Izaya laughs. "I don't think I'm permitted to beat up children, Mairu."_

_"But they're mean!" she pouts. Beside her, Kururi nods silently, her lips are tugged into a pout also but her eyes stay dull and staring ahead of them._

_"A lot of people are mean," Izaya says with a sigh. "People are ruthless and selfish; it's a part of life."_

_"What if they hurt us?"_

_"Then you tell an adult."_

_Kururi points at Izaya and mouths, "Adult."_

_"No, no! I'm not an adult! Tell a teacher, they'll help you."_

_"I have told a teacher!" Mairu yells now, stomping ahead of her sister and Izaya. "They don't do anything!"_

_Izaya shakes his head with a sigh. "Then tell mom and dad."_

_"What if we were killed today?" Mairu asks, her fists clenching at her sides. "What if they came and attacked us today? What then?"_

_"I'm sure they won't kill you."_

_"They said they would!"_

_Izaya stops, raising his eyebrows. "They did?"_

_Both Mairu and Kururi nod; while Izaya busts out laughing._

_"I don't think those kids are old enough to know how to kill someone, and besides..." Izaya pauses and smiles at his sisters, continuing to walk and grabbing both of their hands within his own. "I'll know whenever you're in trouble and I'll come save you."_

_He watches with amusement as the twins exchange a tiny glance before they both curl their gaudy fingers around Izaya's own tightly._

_"Brother. Always." Kururi says, pressing her cheek against Izaya's arms._

_"You better keep that promise!" Mairu snaps._

Izaya sighs as he sits up for the umpteenth time that night and whips away a string of tears that had escaped his eyes while he slept.

"Iza-nii will always be there for you," he whispers to himself. He sits there for a moment, letting the silence of his apartment coil around him. "I guess big brother broke his promise... didn't he?"

* * *

><p><em>Quick update is quick because I love you all and your all so fuckin' awesome. omg.<em>

_SEE WHAT REVIEWS DO, YOU GUYS? They make me update like the Flash! /epic pose._

_PM isn't working atm, so I can't reply to reviews. /facedesk. But when it starts working again, I promise to reply to some of you._ _Or I'll just reply to you all in the A/N of chapter 8 if it keeps acting up._


	8. Reunited

Did Izaya ever mention that he loved being early? It was fun to show up somewhere before everyone else had just to surprise them (and tease them if they would show up late); and to secretly conclude that they were not plotting anything behind his back. It wasn't that Izaya didn't trust Celty and Shinra. Of course, they were some of his oldest friends, besides Kadota. And he would trust them with his—well, maybe not with his life, but with something else less-important to him.

So when Izaya showed up at 5:30, a half hour earlier than their original meeting time, to find Celty's bike already parked outside of Russian Sushi, he was surprised. One half of his mind asked, _Do __they __really __have __something __**that **__important __to __tell __me?_ or, _Is __there __something __else __going __on?_

Simon, who had been standing outside passing out flyers like usual, turns to Izaya suddenly and smiles widely. His large hands wave Izaya towards him. Izaya cracks a smile and slowly makes his way over to the large man, trying to keep his casual look on as he greets the Russian.

"Izaya!" he booms. "Come in, come in! Your friends are waiting!" He pushes a large hand against the back of Izaya shoulders to steer him towards the entry way of the shop. He draws back the curtains for both of them to enter, but his hand never removes itself from Izaya's shoulder. Izaya had no other choice but to reluctantly follow wherever Simon was leading him.

Simon lead him through the shop until they reached a door; where he gestures to it with a smile before turning and making his way behind the counter of the shop, greeting numerous customers on his way. Izaya blinks and watches him for a moment, hints of a grimace tugging at the corners of his lips. Was it just him or did Simon seem _slightly_ happier than usual? Everything seemed a little off today. Shinra and Celty were way earlier than they usually would be; Simon seemed to know something that he didn't; Shizuo hadn't shown up to chuck a vending machine at him yet.

Although there are numerous thoughts racing through his mind, he tries to shrug them off as he turns to face the door again. He silently takes in the sweet fumes of numerous foods beverages around him. Only after a few more moments of savoring the delish smell does he reach out to open the door, but he pauses, his fingers just grazing the door when a familiar voice reaches his ears.

"What do you think he's going to say?" a light, female voice pips. Izaya recognizes the voice. He had only heard it a few days before, after all.

"I think he'll be fine if you don't bring up anything about him and Shizuo being together again," another voice whisper, also very familiar to Izaya's ears.

"Shut up!" the female voice whines. "I know what I see when I see it. And maybe no one else sees it, but I do. It's my yaoi-senses! Yaoi-_sensesss_!"

Izaya blinks. Again. And again.

"You two are giving me a headache," another voice growls. Izaya literally jumps back from the door at the new voice, his eyes widening and jaw going slack.

Was that Shizu-chan? What the hell were they trying to do to him? Locking him in such a small room with that monster could only mean death!

Before he has the time to turn and run away from the door, and the whole shop for the matter of fact, Simon is behind him and pushing him towards the door with two gigantic hands on his shoulders. He tries pressing his feet against the floor to stop the movement, but Simon just continues pushing him forward.

"Simon!" Izaya hisses under his breath. "You know what will happen if I go in there. This isn't going to end well."

"No, no," Simon assures, his deep voice filled with its usual humbleness. "This is good for Izaya, very good."

"How is this good?" Izaya replies, his voice calm yet his eyes move about the shop for some kind of escape in a panic. "You know I hate Shizuo."

Simon doesn't reply, just simple smiles. It ticks Izaya off.

"Yo!" Simon greets as he finally removes one of his hands from Izaya's shoulder and opens the door, just wide enough to push Izaya inside.

"Hi, Simon!" Erika greets loudly, almost shrilling to Izaya's ears.

"I make more sushi for you, yes?"

"Mhm~! You better make sure to bring that ootoro in now that Izaya's here with us."

"How did you—" Izaya starts.

"Yes, I'll get right on that," Simon replies, cutting Izaya off. He goes around the table, asking everyone else what they want before he flashes another wide grin at Izaya and closes the door.

Kadota, who is sitting closest to the door, gestures for Izaya to sit next to him with his hand. Izaya doesn't move from his spot; the informant stands there, his lips pressed together and his eyes running over every persons face within the room, as if he would find the answer to his questions written across their faces.

Kadota, Erika and Walker, that one guy who's obsessed with his van, Shizu-chan, and Celty.

The person he was looking forward to seeing wasn't even in the room.

"I don't understand what's going on," Izaya says, peering around the room with a sense of loathing. "What's going on?"

"We did this for you, Iza-chan!" Erika shouts. Izaya flinches at Erika's nickname for him, but ignores it nonetheless. Really, he was staring at Kadota, silently asking his high-school buddy what the hell was going on.

"Exactly what Karisawa said," Kadota sighs. He breaks eye contact with Izaya almost immediately, glancing across the table at Celty and Shizuo before bringing a hand up to scratch at the nape of his neck nervously. "We did this. All of us."

"Last time I checked my birthday was in May," Izaya laughs, halfheartedly however. "And even then you all didn't celebrate my birthday." His eyes snap over to Shizuo at this point, staring at him when he voices his last sentence. Shizuo has been silent since Izaya had entered the room, finding his chopsticks more amusing than the current conversation, or the fact that his arch enemy is standing in the same room as him.

"It's not for that," Kadota says quickly, efficiently turning Izaya's attention back to him rather than Shizuo. "You don't get out much. And we _are_ your friends, Izaya. I just thought we could - you know, like old times..." He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs before he continues. "Just sit. _Please_."

Izaya glances around the room again, frowning as everyone, not including Shizuo, nods in agreement for Izaya to take a seat.

"If you insist," Izaya sighs, plopping down beside Celty rather than Kadota, just because he has some _important_ _business_ to discuss with her.

Which didn't quite work out the way he had planned since Erika jumps in and starts asking Celty questions right away; while Kadota and Walker fight over which kind of sake they should order, along with that guy... the van guy... Togusa Saburo. Yeah. That was his name. Shizuo sat quietly in the corner of his room by himself, being antisocial like always, and that's the way Izaya preferred it.

Not long after Simon returns to the room with trays of numerous different sushi, looking tropical and delicious. And there's one tray filled with only ootoro, which he sets right in front of Izaya with a smile. Damn them for knowing his taste buds so well; he could already feel his mouth salivating by simply looking at the dish.

And even though he woke up from an awful dream that morning, after only getting a mere four hours of sleep, and he was tricked into coming here by Celty and the crew (and he canceled an important meeting with Shiki just to be there), as Izaya looked around, among all his laughing friends, he couldn't help but smile.

Sometimes. Just sometimes. He wished he could spend his days like this, with his friends, living life the way a twenty-three year old should.

* * *

><p>Izaya didn't seem happy at all with the little surprise they had set up. He was probably looking forward to the juicy information that Celty had been talking about; which was, of course, false. He especially didn't look happy to see Shizuo there, but the blond didn't give two fucks anyhow. He was just there... for no real reason. Sure, he was the one who helped plan this and he was the one who helped Celty bring everyone together - but that didn't mean he had to actually be a part of it.<p>

Simon had brought the sushi, and soon after some drinks Kadota had ordered (after he had settled a little argument with Walker about it.) Everyone was having a splendid time, it seemed. Even Izaya, who at first looked like he would rather be anywhere but in this room.

And even if Shizuo wasn't the drinking type, he figured he could help himself to a few drinks. Everyone else was and he didn't want to feel left out, more than he already did, anyway. What he wasn't expecting was for Izaya to reach across the table, at the same time he had, for the same bottle. Their fingers grazed; a very split second of contact yet Shizuo felt like it took forever for his arm to snap back to his side.

Izaya's fingers were cold compared to his own. But very thing and delicate looking, and very smooth.

Izaya actually laughs at Shizuo's reaction, picking up the bottle and pouring himself a cup before he reaches across the table and grabs Shizuo's. Shizuo doesn't protest as Izaya fills his glass also.

"I didn't know you were the drinking type," Izaya snickers. "Even though you were a bartender, you still seem like the type who would prefer beer over sake."

"I hate beer," Shizuo replies immediately, his nose crinkling is disgust at the mention of the beverage. "And I don't drink a lot," he quickly adds.

Izaya hums and downs his drink; but his eyes never leave Shizuo's. And Shizuo is the first one to look away out of the two, an awkward heat pooling in his gut.

Shizuo quickly downs his own glass.

Everyone moves about the small room, eager fingers gripping around for the numerous different sushis and the bottles of sake scattered around. Celty is the only one who sits quietly for the mean time; before she suddenly finds something interesting near Erika and decides to sneak her way around the table to reach the other female, thus leaving no one between Shizuo and Izaya.

Kadota and Togusa give a quick glance at each other; but neither Shizuo nor Izaya seem to notice it, as everyone continues chatting and drinking.

Izaya may not have noticed, or maybe he did but he wasn't showing it. Shizuo however, now sitting slightly more than a foot away from Izaya, feels anger and a hint of something else stirring in him.

What pisses him off? That girly coat, that ugly smirk that spreads across Izaya's face every now and then, and his cocky voice.

What he currently likes about Izaya? How that girly coat Izaya always wears oddly matches his personality, and that small yet genuine smile he sees between Izaya's ugly smirks every now and then; and his laugh. Shizuo can't remember a time he had heard and laugh that sounded so appealing. Attractive almost. Or maybe that was just the alcohol talking.

It _had_ to be the alcohol. Because there was no way that Heiwajima Shizuo just thought that Orihara Izaya was attractive.

* * *

><p><em>Did I mention that I love you all..?<em>

_Time for replies since my PM is being a jerk STILL -_

_**kitespirit:** Your reviews are always so long and loving and I can't get enough of yoooou. I ADORE YOU, DEAR. You flatter me so much that I can't stop smiling whenever I read your reviews. They really, really mean a lot to me. I wouldn't say my story is the best. At all. But thanks for the thumbs up! Everyone was waiting for Izaya's breakdown (so I gave them what they all wanted, mwahaha) and I'm quite happy with the reactions I got out of everyone, even if they are sad. xD_

_**Cherry-Toxic:** Indeed, what will Shizu-chan dooo~? Sometimes I ask myself the same thing because Shizuo is so unpredictable and I want to make him unpredictable too! I think Shinra's behavior took a lot of people by surprise. I needed someone to play the bad guy role for a little bit, and as much as I love Shinra, he just fit the role perfectly._

_**Slayers64:** I knooooow! I didn't see many tragedies for them, so I wanted to write one myself. Thank you thank you thank you! And I'm sorry that I made you cry. ;3; /hands tissue._

_**Snow****Kyuubi:**No reviews are fail reviews. Only reviews of looooooove._

_**KonoBeat:** ANGST. We all love angst. I have a major, uh... thing (can't remember the word) for keeping characters in character. So it means a lot to me that you think their in character. *heart*_

_**Ejrade:** So much heart break ;w; /fixes heart._

_**VioletIsInPain:** . I-I promise to hurry up with the next one! /hides under bed. D:_

_**jairel:** THANK YOU. I hate on myself a lot, so even if something's good I think it's bad. Indeed, it is difficult to imagine Izaya crying because it's so... not Izaya? But thank you~ I'm glad I kept it kind of IC for the most part. :)_

_And I think someone asked if this was an actual full-out-yaoi-Shizaya story or if it was just a friendship between the two, but I couldn't re-find it in my reviews. But yes! This is Shizaya. There will be sex, later, and it'll start off as a cute little friendship between the two but it will progress. _

_And I did not pre-read this chapter before posting, so please tell me if there are any major mistakes so I can change them quickly. Thanks!_


	9. Expect the Unexpected

Usually when someone got drunk you would find them vulgar and annoying; the slurs and the stumbling, and the sudden burst of emotion that running through them because of the large amounts of alcohol they had been consuming. But, for some reason, Shizuo was not bothered by the drunkenness of his friends. Maybe it was because he had been drinking also or maybe it was something else entirely. But he knew seeing Izaya drunk was the most amusing thing he had ever laid eyes on. And Erika giggling to herself across the table from him made Shizuo crack a smile every now and then. Kadota was calm, as usual, but you could tell by his slurred words that he was almost there—whether that was a good or bad thing, Shizuo didn't know.

Izaya though—he was different. Very different. He had been yapping about nonsense to Shizuo for about half an hour now, acting as if they weren't rivals and this was just normal thing they did every night. Shizuo felt odd, and no doubt surprised, that Izaya's attention was fully focused on him; but he also couldn't help but think, _Maybe Izaya isn't as bad as I thought_.

What surprises Shizuo even more is when he excuses himself to go smoke a cigarette outside, Izaya is in perfect step behind.

He didn't know if this was going to end well for them, and he almost wants to turn around and tell Izaya to go back inside. He ignores this decision as that warmth coils around his stomach once more. He lets Izaya trail after him. The informant probably needed the air anyway.

A heavy, but surprisingly comfortable, silence falls over them. They both lean with their backs up against the wall of Russian Sushi, staring out amongst the outside world; Shizuo with a cigarette between his lips and Izaya with his hands hidden within the pockets of his jacket.

Shizuo can't help but glance out of the corner of his eye at the brunet. Izaya's eyebrows are lowered in an expression that looks like he's in deep thought, while his eyes stare out at the crowd of people passing them. For a moment, Izaya's shoulders slouch and a frown tugs at his lips. Shizuo wonders what's going on in that psychotic head of his. This new, deep emotion was something he had never seen in Izaya.

"They say people get drunk to forget things, but what they don't realize is alcohol just makes you worse—it makes you release your emotions." Izaya says. And the sudden vocalization makes Shizuo swallow hard and turn his attention away from the informant, because he really hoped Izaya had not caught him staring. How embarrassing.

"Even me, sometimes," Izaya starts, then stops because of the laughter that suddenly bubbles from his throat. But it's not the usual laughter Shizuo is used to—it sounds far off, almost dead. It's like he's trying to laugh at a joke that he doesn't find funny. "...I wish there was a way to forget."

Shizou clears his throat and takes a long drag from his cigarette before plucking it from his lips and letting the smoke out through his nostrils. But he doesn't make any sort of reply, simply staring off ahead of them and letting Izaya's words sink in. Izaya pushes himself from the wall and spins in front of Shizuo. And Shizuo finds himself reaching out for the informant as he almost trips over his own feet from the spin; but Izaya just laughs again and waves his hand dismissively, balancing himself with ease.

Despite his obvious drunkenness, Shizuo bets Izaya was just as crafty and graceful as he would be when he's sober.

"What about you, Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo's eyebrows tighten immediately at the nickname. "What?" he growls.

"Is there something you wish you could forget?"

For a moment Shizuo thinks _Your existence_, but he finds himself shaking his head instead of saying the words. "Not really."

Izaya raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing Shizuo's words.

"What about you?" Shizuo asks quickly.

Izaya hums, tapping his chin in thought from a moment. He stays like that for a long while, almost making Shizuo think that the brunet wasn't going to reply. Shizuo sighs, drops his cigarette on the ground before stepping on it to put out the remaining buds.

"Do you want to go back inside?" Shizuo asks, sinking his hands into his pockets and staring down at the silent informant.

"I regret a lot of things, truthfully," Izaya says slowly, completely ignoring Shizuo's former question. "But everyone regrets some things they did in life, and everyone wishes just to forget them."

Maybe it was curiosity—no, cut that—it was curiosity that pushed Shizuo to ask more questions.

"What do you regret?"

Izaya's eyebrows furrow; it makes him look like a ten year old who was just asked a difficult math question. There's another moment of silence, and Shizuo sighs because he's getting really irritated by these longs pauses.

"Ahh," Izaya sighs, swaying a bit. But he balances himself once more and sets his hands on his hips. That smirk is back—the one Shizuo hates so much. It feels like Shizuo is just realizing that this is Izaya in front of him—the man he's hated most of his life and the man he wishes to kill. Out of the sudden flow of anger his fists clench within his pockets and he bites his lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Too many to say," Izaya laughs, like it's all one big joke. He seems oblivious to the blondes anger.

Shizuo finds himself staring at the informant once again, out of anger and a hint of something else. He runs his tongue over his bruised lip, tasting blood there. "Can you name one for me?" he asks.

"I could but that doesn't mean I should."

Shizuo rolls his eyes.

"I definitely don't regret anything involving you, if that's what you're asking," Izaya continues, his voice hinting it's usual daringness he uses just for his fights with Shizuo.

"What..? That's not what I was referring to," the blond growls. His eyebrows pinch together in a look of frustration as he forces himself to stay calm. They had been fine up until this point, so he wanted to see if he could last longer.

"The way we turned out—it's been quite exciting, ne? I always get an adrenaline rush when fighting with you."

Shizuo spits on the ground next to him; he doesn't know if it was to show his dissatisfaction or that his mouth seemed to be producing two times more saliva than usual. "I don't think it's very exciting."

"Really~? You always seem _so_ excited."

"I'm not… Never."

"You _are_ a monster, Shizu-chan. I wouldn't doubt that you enjoy chasing after people, since they always tend to run away from you anyway."

"Shut the fuck up, flea."

"Ah, yeah, I'm sorry. I'm getting carried away, aren't I?" Izaya laughs. It's the laugh that Shizuo enjoys so much—with a real smile, not that ugly smirk.

Why was this happening? Izaya could be an asshole one moment and then he could be all Mr. Nice Guy the next. It could be from the alcohol, or the death of his sisters could be having a huge effect on his personality, or there was that slim chance of Izaya actually getting along with Shizuo. And, in all honesty, Shizuo didn't know whether you like or disliked this sudden change in his rival.

Rivals… enemies… arch nemesis… Someone you're supposed to hate. Lately, Shizuo couldn't bring himself to hate Izaya. Yeah, he disliked him, a lot, but that didn't mean he hated him... Anymore.

Shizuo quickly stalks back into the safety of Russian Sushi before his numerous thoughts could peak any further; they were making him frustrated. And, for once, he didn't want to take out this frustration of Izaya.

"Eh, Shizu-chan?" He hears Izaya call out from behind him.

Every bit of him screams to just keep walking forward and pretend not to hear Izaya; but Shizuo's pauses anyway, completely ignoring the warning signs flashing through his head, and turns to face Izaya. He had followed Shizuo to the door way of Russian Sushi, and he stared at him now with his eyes widened; they seemed to be silently questioning the blond.

"Did I say something wrong?" He continues when Shizuo doesn't reply.

"Just fuck off, Izaya."

"I mean, I know we don't—"

"Stop buggin' me before I pound you,"

"I mean, we were getting along until now—"

"That's exactly it, Izaya," Shizuo finds himself saying. "We're not supposed to be getting along. We hate each other; we always have; and it's fucking aggravating that I can actually stand next to you without wanting to beat the shit out of you. It's not me. And this—this isn't you. You're a manipulative fuck and—fuck! I hated you, and I still want to hate you. But, lately, I've been feeling so fucking guilty.

"That time when you told me and Celty to get out of your house was so unlike you; and you may not have showed your anger like I do but I could still tell you were angry and hurting. And if that wasn't a wake up call for me: I heard that Shinra made you cry over the phone. I know what he was saying was rude, because I was sitting next to him, but it was something I couldn't see you getting emotional over."

Izaya's left staring from the shock of Shizuo outburst, he's lips parted and his almond eyes open wide. He continues staring straight at the blond. Shizuo can't build up the courage to meet Izaya's gaze however. Instead he turns and continues into the room where everyone else was waiting for them.

Izaya never followed. And when the rest of the crew started asking where Izaya was, Shizuo merely shrugged and drank some more.

* * *

><p><em>Slow moving chapter is slow.<em>

_**Slayer64**: Welp, I'm glad I did something unexpected! I thought people would find it obvious._

_**kitespirit**: Holy moly! Such a long review and I looooooved it! asjgdlsghdl; Secret matchmaking? Maybe maybe not. TEEHEE. Hopefully no one else noticed. :B I loved that last chapter was happy and enjoyable; we needed it, and Izaya did too. ARGH. No, no, no! I hate when Shizuo suddenly pops out of no where with love for Izaya; I'm taking their relationship surely and slowly._

_**Ejarde**: Don't thank me, thank you! He's going to be awkward for the next several or more chapters, aha. Awkward!Shizuo FTW?_

_**VioletIsInPain**: The almighty troll just got trolled. Whutnow? Lolololol. And Erika, you, and me can all sit around and talk about yaoi! 8D_

_**CherryToxic**: I needed the light-hearted chapter too; I think everyone did. And Izaya deserved some love too. I imagine Shizuo would be able to control his temper because all the feels of guilt going through him, that's why I didn't make him as angry as he usually would be. Thank you for the review. I enjoy your reviews so much._

_**IzaRukia13**: OH HEY. I've missed you! Your reviews are LOVE, and don't worry! I read each and every one of them, and I enjoy reading them. *heart* You are so so so nice to me, and thank you thank you thank you for the reviews, darling. They are what keep me going. Seriously._

_Thank you to everyone else who reviewed! If I replied to you all on here, it would be an overly long A/N, but I promise to get to you when I can. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH - gdjfgdhfldh_


	10. Can't Get Enough

His dad won't answer his calls.

Well, it's not like Izaya expected him to pick-up in the first place. His dad hated him, didn't he? He blamed him for everything; blamed him for things he had no control over.

Izaya sighed and dropped his phone onto the couch beside him after the fifth attempt at contact with his father. He knew he was home—he was always home nowadays. Izaya's dad wrote articles for the weekly newspaper, and worked from the house most of the time. Now, he did, at least. He used to work at the office, among his other co-workers. But since the death of the Orihara family, his dad spent most of his time locked up in the house. And the only contact he had seen from his father since the funeral as from his articles; which is about daily life, and how you could be a happier and closer family. Izaya used to make fun of him for it, saying that he should listen to his own advice when he writes it down. The articles are still about daily family life, but they make Izaya sick reading them now.

He says Izaya doesn't care. He says Izaya is heartless. He says Izaya shouldn't have been a part of his family. And yet there he is—Izaya's father, and the father and husband of his deceased family—writing about family life, and how it makes life so much better.

"What have you been doing all day?"

Izaya glances up as his secretary's voice, a smile splitting his face in a millisecond. "I've been doing work, obviously," he replies, and he gestures to his cell phone on the cushion beside him.

"Liar," Namie scoffs.

"You don't know who I've been calling," Izaya pouts, waving a hand at his secretary, dismissively. "I've been calling clients all day."

Namie doesn't move from her spot, merely crosses her arms. She glowers down at her boss. "You're a liar."

"And you're cold-hearted."

"Only to you," Namie retorts.

"Oh? Was that supposed to hurt my feelings?"

Namie frowns and her shoulders slump for a moment, her usual up-tight posture relaxing. "Just," she sighs. "I can't watch you sit around here and sulk anymore. Go somewhere! Or do some of your work, for once."

"I have been doing my work," Izaya pouts. "And I don't feel like going anywhere today."

"Get out or I'll make you."

Izaya can't help but laugh at this. Sure, his secretary was scary at points but that didn't mean she could forcibly push him out of his own home.

"I swear I will," Namie continues. "Go to Ikebukuro, go bother people. I don't care what you do."

"It's too early," Izaya sighs. He leans back against the black cushions of his couch and lets his head slump back against them.

"It's eleven,"

"Yeah, it's too early to go taunt people."

Namie sighs, but it's not an aggravated sigh, as usual. It almost sounds calm. "Why can't you just go visit your friends for once? Go out to eat? Go shopping, maybe?"

"I don't go shopping," is Izaya's only reply.

"You could do one of the other things I said," Namie spits. "Shopping isn't your only option."

"I'm not going out to eat by myself."

"If you actually had friends than you wouldn't have to eat by yourself, would you?"

"Auuugh," Izaya groans. He lifts his hands to his face, pressing the palms of them to his cheeks and eyelids, and lets out an exaggerated sigh. "I do have friends."

"Bullshit."

"You're so cruel to me, darling."

"Fuck you. And don't call me something so embarrassing."

"I'm sorry," Izaya says with a snicker, before reaching out to retrieve his abandoned cell phone beside him. "Darling."

The only response Izaya gets is the stomping of Namie's heals echoing into the kitchen, where she busies herself with bashing pots and pans together annoyingly. Izaya takes a moment to glare into the entryway of the kitchen, as the bashing continues, then he sighs and looks down at his cell phone. He flips open his contacts and scrolls through the numerous names of clients, a few friends, and numbers of people he merely finds interesting. He stops with his finger hovering over one name, peculiarly—an enemies name, whose number was in his phone for oblivious reasons.

"Namie," he calls. He waits for the clanking of metal to settle before he continues. "I'm going to Ikebukuro. You may go home now."

* * *

><p><em>From: Orihara Izaya<em>

_Subject: Morning!_

_Message: I'm in Ikebukuro. We should get lunch._

Shizuo stares at the message for a good three minutes, re-reading, clicking out of it and checking if it was Izaya's number texting him before opening it once more to read it, again. It had only been two days since the incident at Russian Sushi. He didn't expect to hear from Izaya so soon—and especially not in a text asking him to accommodate him to lunch. He thought Izaya would refuse to talk to him ever again after what he had said.

What was he up to..?

Shizuo hesitantly replies to the message.

_To: Orihara Izaya_

_Subject: RE:Morning!_

_Message: Sure where?_

Not even a minute after he sends the message, his phone beeps with Izaya's reply.

_From: Orihara Izaya_

_Subject: RE:RE:Morning!_

_Message: You know that western café about two streets down from Russian Sushi? There. I'll be waiting, Shizuo._

Shizuo snorts_, _"Oh sure, you can type my full name out but you can never say it out loud, fucking dick."

With a long, drawn-out sigh he peels himself from his couch and makes his way towards his bathroom. He would have to hurry if he didn't want to keep Izaya waiting.

Wait. Fuck that scrawny bastard. Shizuo would make his ass wait.

He slowly got himself ready, disregarding his usual bartender uniform for a casual green T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. Don't you dare question it! It was a nice day; and he felt like wearing something else for once.

When he was ready and about to head out the door, his phone buzzes from his kitchen table. He turns and stares at the device from across the room for a moment; caught in-between relief and worry. Relief because he would have forgotten his phone if it had not vibrated just then, and worry because—just because.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he moves towards the table and lifts his phone from it. He stares at the little box that alerts him that he has received a new message. He bites his lips as he clicks it open to reveal a new message from Izaya.

_From: Orihara Izaya_

_Subject: Shizu-chaaaaaaaaaan_

_Message: You're so agonizingly slow. I hope you're not touching yourself in the shower._

He should have been irritated by the message. He could imagine the look Izaya would have on his face if he had said that face to face with Shizuo, and that stupid smirk that would be stretching across his lips, and the teasing way he would narrow his eyes in Shizuo's direction. But Shizuo didn't feel mad at all; actually, he tipped his head back and laughed.

He types out a reply as he exits the door of his apartment and locks it.

_To: Orihara Izaya_

_Subject: fuck u_

_Message: Thats none of your business flea._

Now outside, he heads in the direction of Russian Sushi, on his way to—whatever café Izaya was talking about. It was probably western, with a lot of old people. He feels like rolling his eyes when Izaya's reply comes in right away.

_From: Orihara Izaya_

_Subject: RE:fuck u_

_Message: What a mean subject line, Shizu-chan! And I'm guessing that means that you did, indeed, touch yourself in the shower. Tsk tsk._

Shizuo snorts at the message, fingers immediately moving to the keyboard of his phone to reply. He finds that he has to stop a few times to hit some of the keys, because he keeps running into passerby's. He had no idea how people could walk and text at the same time.

_To: Orihara Izaya_

_Subject: RE:RE:fuck u_

_Message: I didnt touch myself so fuck off._

Izaya's reply doesn't come in right away like it did before, so Shizuo shoves his phone in his back pocket and strides onwards. He can easily dodge through the crowds now that he isn't preoccupied with Izaya's texts; but it takes him a moment to spot the small tan bricked café. And he probably wouldn't have realized it was the café Izaya was talking about if he hadn't seen the familiar fur-trimmed coat. Izaya was standing by the doorway of the restaurant, his back pushed up against the tan brick as he fiddles with his phone, fingers dancing across his keyboard quick and graceful.

When Izaya shuts his phone and continues to lean up against the wall looking bored, Shizuo feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket a moment later. He doesn't bother looking at it though, since he was already so close to the restaurant.

"Yo," Shizuo greets as he approaches Izaya, clearing his throat immediately after and turning his attention towards the street.

"Finally," Izaya scowls (in a playful way? If that's possible.) "I feel like I've been waiting here forever."

Shizuo shrugs, continuing to avoid Izaya's gaze as he replies.

"You could've gone inside."

"I could have."

"You should've gone inside, if you're going to complain about it," Shizuo grumbles.

"I'm not complaining," Izaya's laughs. He now turns away from Shizuo and gives a nod in Shizuo's direction before he heads towards the door of the café, gesturing for the blond to follow him. Shizuo follows from a safe distance. He may not feel the anger yet, but it may come - at any time. And he would have to be ready for it. He also didn't know why Izaya had invited him here. Honestly, Shizuo couldn't bring himself to care.

"I've never been here before but I heard it was nice," Izaya says over his shoulder. "It's kind of American styled, and some of the food is greasy. But it fills you up quickly. And Shinra says they have really good milk shakes."

"Shinra?" Shizuo asks, more to himself than it Izaya, since he spoke it so quietly. Izaya doesn't seem to hear him. But, if he did, he didn't show any signs of inquiring Shizuo about it.

"Are you still talking to Shinra?" Shizuo raises his voice enough for Izaya to hear him this time. But, again, Izaya doesn't hear him or he's completely ignoring him - Shizuo can't tell which. A familiar irritation boils within the pit of his stomach. He tries to force it down by taking in the scent of burgers and fries around him.

Izaya leads him to a booth in the further left corner of the room, secluded from most of the other customers. He removes his jacket before he sits, hanging it over the back of the chair, and picks up one of the two paper menu's set out for them. Shizuo watches him before following Izaya's actions, except his lack of a jacket. They sit in silence for a while; even when they're orders are taken and the menu's are gone. They both sit merely staring at the small pouches of salt, sugar, and creamer set out in the middle of the table.

"I haven't spoken to Shinra since _that_ night," Izaya suddenly says. He pretends to be interested in the small cups of creamer, picking a few up and stacking them on top of each other.

It takes Shizuo a moment to understand what Izaya meant by "that night", but he soon realizes that it's the night that Shinra heard Izaya crying over the phone. Shizuo presses his lips together, looking anywhere but at the smaller male in front of him.

"Why?" is all Shizuo can think of.


	11. Something Else

Izaya continues to play with the small cups of creamer for a few moments; stacking them into a small creamer cup castle. For a long moment he stares at his piece of work, before he sighs and flicks the stack with his finger so the small castle he had made collapses; thus sending a few little cups rolling across the table. Shizuo catches one when it rolls off the side of the table closest to him.

"Why not?" Izaya sighs; and he reaches out to take the creamer when Shizuo offers it to him. He quickly stacks all the small cups back into their dish, neatly.

"Well, he's your doctor... and your friend," Shizuo says slowly.

"He insulted me," Izaya snorts. Shizuo watches with a mild amusement at the way the corners of Izaya's nose scrunch up when he says this. It's one of the only signs Shizuo had ever seen the shows that Izaya's irritated, or simply thinking too much. It was cute, in a way.

Only a little bit. Shizuo had seen girls do it when he was in high school too; it was cute when they did it too. So, yeah, not only Izaya was cute when doing it – everyone was. Yeah…

"I insult you all the time," Shizuo replies. Izaya's eyes snap up to meet his own in a split second.

"I hate you, and you hate me," Izaya says. "It's _normal_ for us to insult each other."

"How do you know that Shinra doesn't hate you too?"

Izaya presses his lips together, and his nose crinkles at the sides again. But before he can open his mouth to reply, the waitress steps over and smiles down at them, with faked friendliness. She's holding a platter with Shizuo's and Izaya's plates of American styled burger's and fries; and when she sets the plates down in front of them she kindly asks if they would like anything to drink with their lunch. Izaya's asks for a cup of tea, and Shizuo mutters something about coffee. And she nods, and heads off to get their drinks.

"I never expected you to be one for coffee, Shizu-chan," Izaya snickers. "I imagine you would never need the caffeine with all that adrenaline running through you."

"Yeah?" Shizuo grunts, and crosses his arms over his chest. He's kind of glad that Izaya dropped the subject about Shinra, because the suspense was starting to get to him. He didn't like seeing Izaya down – it made him feel guilty, in a strange way; even though he wasn't to blame for any of Izaya's sorrow. "I _would_ expect you to be the kind of guy that drinks tea all the time, rich fucker."

Izaya smiles. "Don't be jealous because I have a _luxurious_ apartment, and a _hot_ secretary, and _tasteful_ tea."

It's Shizuo's turn to laugh now, and he slaps one of his hands against the table top in a show of hilarity. "Hot secretary? I wouldn't touch that bitch if she were the last creature on Earth. And I don't care for your "luxurious tea" anyway; I prefer coffee."

"Don't be mean," Izaya chuckles, and starts picking idly at his fries as he speaks. "Namie's not _that_ bad."

"She is _that_ bad. I hate her so much."

"Do you hate her more than me?" Izaya sings. But even though his tone is playful, and not to be taken seriously in any way, Shizuo finds himself actually thinking about it. He tilts his head and munches on a few of his fries for a moment.

"Maybe."

Izaya raises an eyebrow.

"Lately, I mean," Shizuo is quick to add.

As Izaya continues to stare at him with a raised eyebrow, Shizuo begins to stuff more fries into his mouth.

"Interesting," Izaya mutters. He continues to stare at Shizuo, though his eyes narrow a bit, as if thinking. "Very interesting."

"Stop staring at me like that," Shizuo says around his mouthful of fries. "You look like a fuckin' cat."

"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or as an insult."

"An insult, obviously," Shizuo says matter-of-factly.

"I don't know~" Izaya hums. "Cats are cute. I was even thinking about buying one."

"Shut up and eat your food."

"Yes, mother," Izaya retorts sarcastically.

"…Or I'll shove down your throat."

"Kinky mother," Izaya chuckles, but picks up his burger nonetheless. The burger looks much too big for Izaya's hands, and his mouth even. Shizuo finds himself watching curiously as Izaya fiddles to hold the giant burger in place and take a bite of it.

"Struggling?" Shizuo asks. He puts elbow on the table top, and cradles his cheeks within his palm as his watches Izaya. Vermillion hues glance at Shizuo quickly before returning to the monstrous piece of food in front of him.

"I think anyone would struggle while trying to eat this thing."

"I could eat it perfectly fine."

"Oh?" Izaya lowers his burger and narrows his eyes at Shizuo. "Let's see you eat that whole thing then."

Shizuo steals a quick glance at his own plate before returning his eyes to Izaya's challenging ones. He feels himself smirk.

"Let's see who can finish theirs first," Shizuo challenges. And he realizes this is so unlike him, but he's enjoying the new expressions that appear on Izaya's face lately. Besides, Izaya needs the fun. With all that has been happening to him recently, Shizuo can only imagine how much he has on his shoulders. A friendly challenge may help; Izaya had always loved games.

"Challenge accepted," Izaya smiles—more like smirks. But it's hard to tell between Izaya's smirks and smiles sometimes.

Izaya moves to take another bite of his burger but pauses when Shizuo doesn't make a move to reach for his own. The blond stays in the same position, simply staring at Izaya. The brunet doesn't only find it aggravating that the blond may not be taking their competition seriously but the stare Shizuo is giving him is creepy.

Who watches people eat giant burgers? Shizuo obviously does.

"What?" Izaya finds himself snapping.

Shizuo merely shrugs and pops another fry into his mouth; yet not making a move for his burger.

"Stop watching me," Izaya says, in a lowered tone that might have sounded threatening to anyone else.

"Am I irritating you?"

"No, for once, you're actually scaring me."

"You've been scared of me more than once."

Izaya sets his burger down and whips his fingers on a napkin before folding his hands on top of the table and leaning forward, looking entirely interested about their new conversation. "What makes you think that?"

"You always run away from me," Shizuo says, "which makes you scared of me."

"I run away from you because you would kill me otherwise," Izaya replies.

"'Cause you're scared."

"Scared?" Izaya takes a long moment to let a bubble of laughter emerge from his throat. "Scared of what? Flying vending machines? If so, then yes! I am horrified to be crushed by a flying metal object."

"But the vending machines wouldn't be flying if it wasn't for me," Shizuo says quickly; maybe a little too quickly, because a sudden awkward silence falls over the two. And, without another clue of what to say, Shizuo finally turns his attention to his burger.

"A fine lesson," Izaya pips in just as Shizuo taking a bite of his burger. "We shouldn't throw vending machines at the innocent."

Shizuo can't help but roll his eyes. _Innocent my ass._

When they had finished eating (which Shizuo had ultimately won the contest, because he tended to stuff food in his mouth when he couldn't think on how to develop conversation, and he earned the prize of Izaya buying him a strawberry milkshake) they both headed out of the café.

Shizuo clears his throat as they exit, stuffing his hands into his pocket and looking about the street and people before them.

"Where are ya heading now?" Shizuo asks. He tries to keep himself from sounding too anxious; because, even though it's terribly wrong, he's found Izaya's presence almost comforting most of their lunch date.

Meeting—not a date, forget what was just said. Moving on.

Izaya shrugs. "I'll probably head home now. I have nothing else to do; I might as well get some work done."

"Well," Shizuo pauses for a long moment, but Izaya doesn't seem to be affected by the pause, standing beside Shizuo the entire time. Shizuo half expected to Izaya to dismiss himself and be on his way, and the day of being… acquaintances would be over and they would go back to being enemies, like they had always been. But he doesn't move, and he doesn't show any signs of moving any time soon. Shizuo opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to form words—any words. But a nervousness coils in his stomach, and a few other things that Shizuo couldn't name—the heat from before, and maybe a tint of anger he always felt when he saw Izaya.

"Shizu-chan," Izaya cuts in, forcing Shizuo thoughts into the back of his mind as he twirls in front of Shizuo and gives a bright, very not-Izaya smile. "Do you want to do something else? I'm not ready to go home and face Godzilla yet."

Godzilla, heh. Clever.

"Like what?" Shizuo grunts. He's trying his best to seem uninterested in Izaya's offer, his tone lowered and his eyes fixed somewhere out amongst the people on the street.

"Well, I have some business to take care of," Izaya says, slowly; almost cautious. "Would you like to come with me? I'm sure I can get it done quickly if you're with me."

Wait, back up a bit. What was Izaya saying? Izaya's work usually meant nothing but trouble.

He thought Izaya had invited him there for another reason, or maybe that was just Shizuo mind trying to convince itself that Izaya had invited here for... something else, he supposed. But...

_Excuse me? _Shizuo's mind snaps. _Is that the reason you invited me out, prick? So I could provide as some kind of body guard?_

"Actually," Shizuo snarls. "I have something better to do." He steps away from Izaya to a nearby tin garbage can, where he lifts it and turns to Izaya, raising the metal above his head, warningly. "You better start running, flea."

Izaya takes a quick step backward, eyebrow furrowed. "What this, Shizu-chan? I just… We don't have to… We could go do something else."

"Fuck no!" Shizuo yells. "I know what you're up to, Izaya-kun! And I'm not going to fall for your tricks anymore!"

Shizuo whirls his arms forward, giving the metal can the capacity it needs to fly towards its target. However, like usual, Izaya quickly ducks under the trash can, effetely avoiding any damage, and bolts right into traffic. Shizuo screams after him—but he doesn't chase him. There's two reasons'…

One, Shizuo doesn't care to see Izaya's face at the moment. He's angry—much angrier than he had been in a long time.

Two, he really doesn't feel like getting hit by a truck again.

* * *

><p>It's fucked up. It really is.<p>

Izaya knew he had to be cautious around Shizuo; and he should have never brought up something about his work. He was actually beginning to think that monster actually cared a little. He had been there for him recently, and the look in Shizuo's eyes when he talked to him was comforting. It made Izaya forget. It made Izaya believe he was actually happy.

But he wasn't happy, was he. He could never be happy. Everyone hated him; everyone but his family. And where were they now? Dead. The only people he had brought himself to care about over the past years were no longer there.

Sure, he still had his dad. But what was the point of having a dad if he never spoke to you? What was the point of having a dad who blamed you for everything?

If he could only go back and change what he said, Shizuo and he could be off doing who knows what. But, instead, Izaya finds himself in a lowly Ikebukuro pub. He started out with drinking some sake, and slowly moved onto a glass of beer when he felt his mind start to reel.

Who cares what people thought of him? He was meant to be alone from the beginning. He knew that; he had told himself that a long time ago.

The world seems to swim around him, like a tank filled with millions of fish. And he's simply there—in the middle of the tank. Lifeless. Unmoving. Simply watching as the other fish converse and fall in love around him; they swim around with grace and beauty, going on about their daily lives, notorious.

And now he's stumbling. He doesn't know where to, and his mind doesn't have the sobered decency to care. He's out on the street, looking about the city's lights with a smile on his face. People give him odd looks as he passes them on the streets: glares, scowls, mean gestures.

A grasp on the sleeve of his jacket makes Izaya's lip curl, and his eyes crinkle near the sides as he turns and faces a middle aged man whose hand is hooked around Izaya's forearm.

"What do'ya want, ol' man?" Izaya slurs, trying his best to glare at the man. It's not very intimidating though.

"You shouldn't be on the street at this time of night,_ boy_," the older male replies; his voice raspy. Izaya doesn't see this man as a threat, however. All he can focus on his how bad this man's breath smells and how he wishes to go home and curl up in his bed for he can see his beautiful sister's faces in his dreams.

"That's why I'm headin' home now, ain't I?" Izaya replies with a smile. He reaches for the man's fingers in an attempt to pry the dirty fingers from his coat. But the man's fingers don't budge—they tighten on Izaya's arm.

"Maybe I should escort you home?" the old man seems to sing. "I'll take good care of you."

Izaya feels sick. "No thanks," he drawls. "I think I'll be alright on my own."

"But I_ insist_."

And just as the man begins to lean closer to Izaya, a large black car rolls up to the pair. The old man pauses in his attempts to back Izaya into the nearest wall to glower down at the car parked beside them. A man clad in black steps out of the front seat with a handgun held up in front of him. Izaya's can't help but smile.

The older man releases Izaya's arm in a panic, holding his arms up in surrender and backing away from the approaching man with the gun. Meanwhile, now released for the man's grip, Izaya struts his way around the armed man and toward the car. The window lowers as he approaches.

"It's been a while," Izaya's says, his voice still tinted with drunkenness, "Shiki-sama."

"Just get in the car, Orihara," the other man sighs as he swings the door open for the informant. "We have much to discuss."

"I don't think I'm fit for discussin' business tonight," Izaya laughs. "Maybe ya could jus' drive me to Shinra's, ne? And I'll call ya in the mornin'."

Shiki narrows his eyes, but grunts and turns his head away as Izaya climbs messily into the vehicle to sit beside him. "Fine," he sighs. "But you _must_ call me tomorrow, Orihara. Or_ else_."

"Yeah, yeah," Izaya's yawns. He waves a hand dismissively in the Yakuza leader's face. He hears Shiki grunt at this and he pushes Izaya's hand away from him.

"If you weren't drunk, I would beat you for that."

Izaya mocks a gasp of surprise. "Beat me! Oh, Shiki-sama could never be abusive to me!"

Shiki snorts and rolls his eyes, leaning forward to tell the driver Shinra's address before leaning back and readying himself to listen to Izaya's endless drunken tales.

* * *

><p>Shizuo sighs as he collapses against Shinra's couch, nuzzling his head into the armrest.<p>

"Why are you here again?" Shinra asks from the kitchen.

"I came here to tell you to apologize," is Shizuo's muffled reply.

Shinra enters the living room with a cup of tea, or coffee—Shizuo's can't tell from where he's sitting—in hand.

"Why should I?" Shinra says with a frown. "He was asking for it."

"It was mean," Shizuo muffles.

"If you have forgotten," Shinra says, in that doctor-like tone he uses when he's describing something beyond someone else's knowledge. "He does a lot of mean things too. He only deserves to be put in his place once in a while."

Shizuo picks himself up from the couch to meet Shinra's gaze. "He's going through a lot right now."

Shinra gives him a look as if he doesn't believe that.

"And," Shizuo continues. "He may not show it, but I can tell—"

"He'll be fine," Shinra assures. He's not convinced at all that Izaya's hurting. Sure, he may feel guilty. But did Izaya really know his sister's all that well? Didn't he ignore his family for a _reason_?

"He needs help, Shinra," Shizuo sighs. "If it has to be me who helps him, than so be it."

Shinra's face softens for a moment, but he still has a tint of disbelief in his features. "Were you not just mad at him a minute ago?"

Shizuo grunts and buries his head futher into the cushions.

Celty comes into the room just then and holds up her screen for Shinra to read it. A satisfied smile immediately splits the doctor's face. He returns his gaze to Shizuo's and says: "You better start thinking of what you're going to do to 'help him.' "

* * *

><p><em>While writing this chapter I could not stop listening to Mad World by Gary Jules. I've loved that song since I was a child, and it really helped me get a feeling for this chapter, and for Izaya's emotions. If you haven't heard it yet, I advise you look it up. It's truly amazing. Adam Lambert's version of the song is great too.<em>

_**kitespirit:** I'm in a such a comedy mood lately, so I've been making chapters a little fun and humouristic. Or I'm kind of getting people into a good mood, so they don't know what will happen next. Will it continue to move along smoothly or will something happen to conrupt their minds? Ooooooh, we don't knoooow. I'm glad people liked the text messages! I have so much fun writing them. JAGDKJSGDKJDSGFJK YOUR REVIEWS MAKE ME SO GIDDY, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW. I love reading your long reviews and they really inspire me to continue writing this. Thank you thank you thank you._

_**Slayers64:** It's whatever you want it to be. ;D BUT Iwouldliketothinkofitasadate. /cough_

_**Lovelytrickster:** BWAH, I don't think it's the best but THANK YOU!_

_**Cheery-Toxic:** It's not that late, don't worry 'bout it! I'd rather have a late one than not have one at all.~ I love Namie and Izaya when they're in a friend-type of relationship, so I love writing their playful banter. Indeed, Izaya has made a lot of progress. But he's still hurting deep down, he's just has that mask - he's good at hiding it._

_Review, please?_


	12. You Pull the Plug and I Disappear

He over reacted. That's the only thing he can think of now. He didn't know what Izaya was going to do, or if he was even going to _fight_ someone—though it was likely, since most of Izaya's "business" dealt with gangs. But, even so, Shizuo had jumped to conclusions. It happened all so suddenly and Shizuo found that he was regretting it afterward. So he headed to Shinra's to see if he could get the brunet doctor to apologize—anything to help Izaya. Because Shizuo obviously wasn't helping Izaya by throwing scraps of metal at him.

The only reason he had flipped was because his conscious seemed to _know_ Izaya would be up to something - but maybe he wasn't. Maybe, for once, Izaya was innocent. Maybe, for once, Izaya hadn't planned anything and he was being totally sincere with Shizuo.

Now Izaya was on his way, in a man named Shiki's car, and Shizuo had no idea what he was supposed to do. What was he supposed to say? He probably freaked Izaya out with his sudden mood flash back at the restaurant.

Shizuo digs his phone out of his pocket to check the time on his phone. He pauses when he see's the new message box up, blinking. The time of the message shows that it was from sometime that morning, around the time he was meeting Izaya. He had never looked at that text Izaya had sent him… did he? He swallows nervously before he clicks open the message.

_From: Orihara Izaya_

_Subject: RE:RE:RE:fuck u_

_Message: I bet you did. I bet you were touching yourself to the thought of me, weren't you? I know I'm sexy, Shizu-chan.~ There's no need to deny it._

Shizuo's grip tightens on his phone almost to the point of crushing it; the small plastic creaks angrily at the pressure.

The fuck was that? He had never thought of Izaya while jerking off! That's… That's…

The ring from Shinra's doorbell makes Shizuo jump and clumsily drop his phone, which somehow bounces under the table. Shizuo glares it, but decides to leave it there for now. He tries to calm himself as he hears Celty run up to answer the door.

Never—never in all his life had he imagined Izaya naked until now. But that's not what scared him. What scared him was that he actually found the image of Izaya naked… attractive…

Fuck.

In wobbles the man himself, clinging to a man in a professional looking white suit. And saying things like, "Ah~ Shiki is so nice for bringin' me inside. I knew ya didn't hate me, Shiki. How nice~ How nice~"

Shizuo feels his eye twitch.

Shiki drops Izaya on the couch across from Shizuo, ignoring Izaya's attempts to try and hold onto the older man. Shiki steps away from him with a frown pulling at his lips.

"Take me somewhere else," Izaya whines from the couch.

"You wanted to come here, so I took you here," Shiki replies calmly, as if he's done this a thousand times and perfected the art of dealing with drunks. "You will stay here."

"But Shizu-chan is here." Shizuo lowers his head and stares at the floor when he feels Izaya's gaze land on him - it's a glare. And usually something so civil wouldn't effect Shizuo, but it's different now. It's not only the guilt anymore. The fact that he had pictured Izaya naked just a second ago, and then in walks the informant himself, makes Shizuo feel uneasy.

"You are staying," Shiki states. He turns his attention away from Izaya and turns to Celty, and they converse for a moment via Celty's phone. Then Shiki nods at her, and gives Izaya a small nod before heading out. Once he's out the door, Izaya seems to get his voice back immediately.

"Don't want to be here," he says. "Take me home."

"You're not going anywhere in your condition, Izaya," Shinra calls from somewhere in the hallway. Izaya makes a face in the hallways direction.

"Tell him to leave," Izaya goes on. He arches his head in Shizuo's direction, for good measure, as if Shinra can see him.

"I'm not going anywhere," Shizuo says from the other couch. "I'm not leaving until Shinra does what I told him to do."

Shinra's steps out of the hallway, looking entirely innocent. "And what did you tell me to do again? I seem to have forgotten!"

Shizuo narrows his eyes, but even that doesn't seem to "remind" the brunet, since he turns and starts back towards the hallway. "I'll come out and do that whenever I remember!" he calls loudly, and then motions for Celty to follow him with a nod of his head. "For now, I'll leave him to you. Be nice! No fighting!"

"Great," Izaya scoffs once the two are out of sight, "now I'm stuck with you. This is turning out to be the worst day."

"Shut up, flea, I'm not happy to be stuck in a room with you either."

"Then leave," Izaya spits, sitting up and facing Shizuo.

"I can't."

Izaya throws his hands up dramatically and falls back against the cushions, his lips pursuing into somewhat of a frown. "The door is right there." And he points to the door, as if Shizuo has no idea where he had entered the apartment.

"I know where the fuckin' door is," Shizuo snarls. "Just shut the fuck up. Your voice is annoying."

"So sorry, Shizu-chan! I can't help what my voice box decides to sound like. Would you rather me talk like a grumpy gorilla all day long, and cuss for no reason? You seem to fancy that."

Shizuo furrows his eyebrows, and gives Izaya a quizzical stare. "I don't talk like a grumpy gorilla."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"Yes. Yes, you do."

"I don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"Yes you do, Shizu-chan."

"Shut up. I don't talk like a gorilla. Gorilla's can't speak."

Izaya fakes a gasp and brings both hands to his mouth for an added effected. "How smart of you, Shizu-chan. I never knew animals couldn't speak."

Shizuo crosses his arms, irritated. But, for once, he doesn't retort to Izaya's mouth (or throw anything at him, for that matter.) He leans back against the couch, glaring with his arms crossed, at Izaya.

Izaya's nose crinkles. "What?"

Shizuo doesn't reply.

"Stop staring at me," Izaya _orders_.

Shizuo doesn't reply, just continues to glower.

And so Izaya doesn't say anything either, huffing and crossing his arms also.

"It got awfully quiet all of a sudden!" Shinra's voice shouts from a deeper part of the apartment. "You didn't kill him, did you, Shizuo?"

"No," is Shizuo's immediate reply. But when he says this, he still doesn't remove his gaze from Izaya, who now decides that one of Shinra's wall is much more interesting than Shizuo's face. "He's still alive. He's just being quiet, _for once_."

"Oh, well... alright. Be good, remember! No fighting while mommy and daddy are talk - "

WHACK.

"Ouch! Celty dearest, why did you punch me? I didn't even say anything bad!"

A long moment of silence follows. Shizuo feels like he's been sitting there forever - staring at Izaya staring at a wall. Until -

"You wish you could kill me, don't you?"

Shizuo blinks. "Excuse me?"

"You say it all the time. Yet - " Izaya stops, his eyebrows wrinkling. "..Yet you're sitting right in front of me, and I've been drinking. Wouldn't this be the perfect opportunity?"

Shizuo swallows the lump in his throat that seems to emerge out of no where. He still doesn't peel his eyes from Izaya, watching as the brunet lowers his head and gives a weak laugh.

"An opportunity to make the world better, right? Without Orihara Izaya than 'Bukuro could be happy," Izaya continues when Shizuo stays silent. "Right? I'm right, aren't I?"

"I - " Shizuo starts.

"Fuck the Orihara's, right?" Izaya laughs, yet his tone is dark and his face is twisted with so many emotions, Shizuo can't name just one. "You know what some people tell me? The Orihara's were awful people to begin with, so who gives a shit that they died? The mom was a bitch, the sisters were obnoxious lesbians, and now the dad isn't as conceited as he once was. And that son, oh that horrible son of theirs could never care for anything, so he probably doesn't even notice that their dead!

"Even someone I_ thought_ was my friend told me that I didn't care! Even one of my clients said I must not care because I'm still _working, _like nothing had ever happened_._.. Well, you know what, Shizu-chan? Fuck them!"

Shizuo's mouth had dropped open at the beginning of Izaya's rant, and now his eyes were open wide also.

Where the hell was this coming from?

"So why not kill me now and do everyone a favor?" Izaya says as he stands, and makes his way around the table until he's standing just in front of the blond. Pale fingers curl under Shizuo's chin and lift his head so that he's looking Izaya in the eye. Those eyes - fuck... Those eyes are so sad; filled with so much emotion that Shizuo wonders how they can hold so much. How can someone so small hold so much pain?

"Just," Izaya goes on. One of his hands reach down and curl around Shizuo's, leading the larger hand to his neck, where he pushes Shizuo's palm against his adam's apple. "Wrap your fingers around my neck and squeeze the life out of me."

* * *

><p><em>oh god wut.<em>

**READ !**

_Late update is late because I suddenly lost inspiration for this fic._

_So, review, please? Reviews really do help me update faster because they reassure me that people actually like my writing, and that someone is actually reading this. I need inspiration, a lot. Because I put myself down so much. SO PLEASE? I hate begging for reviews, but I really need them now. Or the next update won't come for a while, and I don't know how long that may be - until I inspire myself to continue writing again, derp._

_I'm awful, I know._

_Tsadde's review is actually what inspired me to write this whole chapter in one day. I love all my other reviewers just as much, but she's the one who actually made me get my ass in gear. Thank you!_


	13. Only One

No, he had never expected Shizuo to actually kill him. Although, yes, he was surprised how the monster had been able to stand near him throughout the past – what? Weeks? Months? Izaya couldn't tell anymore – and not try to smash him into bits or throw anything gigantic at him (except the situation at the diner.) But there were a lot of reasons Shizuo wouldn't, or couldn't, kill him. One, he would be judged as a murderer and put in jail. Izaya knew Shizuo couldn't be that stupid.

Honestly, he didn't know why he had brought it up. It seemed like words were just rolling off of his tongue. His thoughts – personal thoughts – were coming out and showing themselves without his acknowledgment. It was something Izaya wasn't used to doing; it was something Izaya had taught himself not to do. He didn't want anyone in his mind, because he didn't want anyone to know what he was thinking.

Because _no one understood_.

Shizuo's hand felt warm against Izaya's neck – a warmth Izaya hadn't felt in years: the heat of another human being. Of course he had felt his own skin, but it wasn't like Shizuo's. His skin was cold; clammy with sweat at times, but always cold and never had that tempting radiating heat that Shizuo's hand seemed to give off in pleasent waves.

Izaya swallowed thickly and lowered his head, now using his fingers to wrap each individual index of Shizuo's around his neck.

"Do it," he whispers. Shizuo visibly jumps at Izaya's voice, but even through that his eyes do not leave the brunets – staring, searching… Searching for what?

"You know I can't," Shizuo whispers back, his voice is shaky, and he slowly pulls his hand away from Izaya's neck. "I can't kill you, Izaya, especially when you're like this."

Izaya forces out a fake string of laughter. "When I'm like what, Shizu-chan? I'm the same as I always am."

"Bullshit," Shizuo says. He stands now, and grabs Izaya by the shoulders, his eyebrows knitted and his teeth bared. The pressure of Shizuo's thumbs pushing into his collarbone makes Izaya wince; but Shizuo either doesn't notice or doesn't care that he's possibly bruising the informant.

"You're drunk, and your talking nonsense." Shizuo gives him a little shake, probably more for himself than for Izaya, and sighs. "You don't know what you're saying. I think you should go to bed."

"I know what I'm talking about," Izaya snaps back. For a moment, both Shizuo and him are silent. And then Izaya takes in a deep breath and leans his head on Shizuo's shoulder. His eye lids fluttering tiredly. Shizuo parochially tenses at the touch; his grip tightening on Izaya's shoulders.

"I know what I'm talking about," Izaya repeats, his speech muffled by the fabric of Shizuo's vest. "I know what I'm talking about."

"Everybody doesn't hate you," Shizuo says slowly, then clears his throat. "Everybody in the world can't hate you because everyone in the world doesn't know you."

"Everybody in my favorite town hates me," Izaya mumbles into Shizuo's shoulder.

"There's a lot of other towns out there."

Izaya's silent for a moment, standing there with his face pressed into Shizuo's clothing. Shizuo hesitantly drops his arms from the informant's shoulders, and lets them fall to his own sides. Izaya feels cold again, so cold and so alone.

But that's the way he had always been, hadn't he? Although the world had seemed to become colder lately. Frosty, and threatening to pull Izaya into its frozen depths. This cold was changing Izaya. This cold was making him into someone he was not, it was making him into one of the people he used to laugh at and get joy out of watching their torture.

Shizuo sighs yet again and places a hand on the back of Izaya's head, in what Izaya guessed was supposed to be a comforting gesture. And, even though it's Heiwajima Shizuo, it still feels nice to have someone close.

"I don't know what you're feeling," Shizuo says, breaking the hollow silence. "Damn, I don't even know what you're talking about half of the time."

Izaya cracks his eyes open and glances up at the taller man through his eyelashes, but doesn't make a move to speak. He was curious. What was that brute talking about now? Obviously he didn't understand half the things Izaya said because he was an idiot.

"But I know that the way you're dragging yourself along isn't healthy, Izaya," he goes on. "I can see it, because it's moments like this that you open up and show me your real side - the side you hide from everyone else. I don't know why you do it - maybe it can't be helped - but all I know is I see your pain."

Izaya gives a hollow laugh and peels himself from the blond. For a moment, he stares at the spot on Shizuo's shoulder where his head had been resting, then his eyes glance towards the hallway, where they stay for a moment.

"You know nothing about me," Izaya says thickly.

Shizuo snorts. "Like hell I don't! I've known you my whole life, flea. I probably know you better than anyone."

"You might have known me my whole life, but that's doesn't mean you _know_ me, Shizu-chan."

"That's because you've always been an asshole."

"No, it's because of your anger problems, and you can't take an innocent joke."

"I can't help it," Shizuo growls. "Your face pissed me off."

"Yeah? Well..." Izaya pauses and glances around the room, his eyes squinting in thought. After another second of glancing around, he smiles and turns his head back to Shizuo. "Your face pisses me off."

"That's what I said," Shizuo says, a small growl rumbling in his throat.

Izaya shakes is head. "No, Shizu-chan, you said 'pissed' which is passed tense. I said piss, as in I get pissed off just by looking at you. Even now!"

"And yet you were clinging to me just a moment ago."

Izaya makes a face. "So?"

"So? I piss you off and yet you cling to me like a child?"

"I did not."

"Yes, you did. You were whining about your family and shit."

"My family and _shit_? My family isn't shit."

Shizuo bristles, taking a small step back only to find that the back of his knee meets the couch and he falls back into its cushions. Izaya steps forward and stands over him, glaring down at the blond.

"That not what I meant, flea," Shizuo tries to say casually, though the coiling of guilt in his throat and stomach make his voice crack when he says 'flea.'

"Oh, of course not! It's not like you don't hate me and my family already, so calling them shit won't make a difference."

"I didn't call them shit! You're jumping to conclu-"

"And it's not like I _care_ what you-," Izaya interrupts.

"Would you shut up! You-"

"No, you shut up. Your the one-"

"You're being and asshole, Iza-"

"Your being an ass-"

"Stop being childish!" Shizuo yells. He flings his arms around the brunet and drags him onto the couch, fighting the informants arms until he's able to pin them both down against the cushions.

"Get off," Izaya says in his best warning tone. He tries to wiggle his wrists from Shizuo's tight grasp, and kicks out with his feet, but neither prevail. But that doesn't mean he stopped wiggling around.

Shizuo growls and sits himself on top of the brunets legs, restraining them between himself and the couch.

"Stop it! Be quiet and listen to me, for once!" Shizuo sneers. He also tightens his hands around Izaya's wrists; until, at last, Izaya stops moving and lays there, panting.

"Why should I?" Izaya sneers back. "You never have anything insightful to say."

Shizuo takes a deep breath, and lets his eyelids slip closed as he tries to calm the raging emotion within him. Izaya watches, his nose wrinkled in distaste of having this beast sit on top of him. He shouldn't have let himself get into this mess. It was ignorant and childish to even think that coming to Shinra's place would be a good idea. His head still reeled from the alcohol consumption, but he believed he had sobered up verbally and mentally enough to not start spouting nonsense again.

"Are you going to say anything or are you just going to sit on me?" Izaya asks after a short pause.

Shizuo grumbles something incoherent to Izaya's ears; which informant tilts his head in repsonse, questioning, "Sorry, Shizu-chan, what was that? I couldn't hear you."

"I'm worried about you!" Shizuo says so loudly that it makes Izaya's ears ring.

"Excuse me?"

"Damn it, Izaya! You don't know what you're doing to me. You're all I think about everyday. And I can't stop it, no matter how hard I try."

Izaya clears his throat and gives a weak laugh. "Is this a confession, Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo shakes his head wildly. "No! No, it's nothing like that!"

Izaya gives him a look that says he doesn't believe him and rolls his eyes. "It's alright, Shizu-chan. I know I'm tempting."

"Shut up!" Shizuo hollers, pulling angrily at one of Izaya's arms. Izaya winces as his shoulder jolts uneasily in its socket.

"Don't flail me around like some kind of doll," Izaya warns. "Your going to rip my arm out."

"Be quiet and let me finish."

"I think I heard enough."

Eyebrows knitting, Shizuo moves to grip both of Izaya's wrists in one hand, while the other slaps over the brunet's mouth. Shizuo half expected Izaya to do something disgusting like lick his palm but, surprisingly, he just lays there and glares up at Shizuo. His irritation was obvious.

"Ever since your sisters and your mom... passed, you've changed," Shizuo says after calming his breathing. "And I... I felt for you Izaya. I felt sorry for you, and I wanted to help you anyway I could but-" Shizuo pauses, and averts his eyes off to the side. "But I couldn't trust you enough to be around you all the time. I'm not as angry as I usually am when I'm around you. I don't know why - I still fucking hate your personality - but, at the same time, I just want to be there for you."

Izaya turns his head to the side quickly, effectively avoiding Shizuo's silencing palm.

"That's... touching and all... but-" Izaya starts uneasily, but cuts himself off. He wishes more than anything to cover his face right now, to curl up and hide; but that was little hard to do when he didn't have control over his arms. So, instead, he closes his eyes and chews at his bottom lip, nervously.

Why did he have to be so unpredictable?

Why did he have to make Izaya feel so small? So vunerable?

Izaya didn't like it. He felt weak around Shizuo, and no matter what he did he would always feel that way. Surprised, captured, and all over confused by the blond's actions.

"Don't do this," is all Izaya can force out. "Don't say things like that."

"Why?" Shizuo whispers.

"I hate you. I hate you _so much..._ so don't start getting friendly - don't start making me like you, Shizuo."

His full name slipping from the informant's lips makes Shizuo's heart jump. He leans closer until he can feel Izaya's breath against his cheek.

"Why?" he whispers again. "Why can't we be friendly? You already show me sides of you that no one else see's, so I don't see what the problem is." He releases the bit of force he had on Izaya's wrists and runs his fingers soothingly over the skin of Izaya's palms and fingers.

"I hate you," Izaya states.

"I don't hate you," Shizuo breaths, "not as much as I used to, at least."

The reply makes Izaya's eyes snap open, staring quizzically up at the blond. Shizuo's face is much closer than Izaya had expected it to be, and he pushes his head back into the cushion, shivering when Shizuo's breath ghosts over his jawline. Shizuo's clothes smell of nicotine and his breath smells like mint gum, an awkward combination that sends Izaya's olfactory nerves into a disarray.

But - even if the smell is awkward and he hates the man above him more than anything - after a moment, he finds himself leaning up into that warmth. His heart is beating too fast and his breathing is becoming faster with every centimeter further he leans up.

So much warmth - that appealing warmth! That's all Izaya wanted. Izaya wanted to be wanted; he wanted to be comforted. He didn't want to be alone anymore. And Shizuo was there now, and that's all he needed. Just a little further -

A throat clearing loudly from behind the couch makes both of the bodies on the couch jump and separate quickly, both of their chests heaving and their faces flushed. It's only until they realize what they had _almost_ done, that they both cover their faces and mutter angry curses to themselves. All the while, the doctor is standing behind the couch with a huge grin on his face.

"Having a little bit too much fun, ne?"

* * *

><p><strong><em>MERRY CHRISTMAS !<em>**

_The whole time I was writing this chapter, my dad was in the other room listening to Christmas music. __SIMPLYYYY HAVING A WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS TIIIIIIME, with lots of Shizaya angst. Buu buu._

_A **huge **thanks to jairel, naien543, SecrecyKilledTheCat, Rai Rai Blue, icywarm, kitespirit, mangoface, Momo, Demonic Flower, RainbowgasmWriter, KonoBeat, Miss special pants, Megami-Lenia-VampTigressDemon, GameFreak7, and NightmaresForNarcotics! __Thank you for fueling my writer's block at desperate times like this. I smile so big when I read reviews and it makes me want to start typing right away, because I know I have all of yooooou. I love you all. I promise to continue this just for YOU - _

_and I also have an emotional attachment to this story, I just need the inspiration. BECAUSE I SUCK SO MUCH OMG shkdhkldhklfgkhg_

_oh! and short replies:_

_**kitespirit**: I thought I was taking their relationship too quickly actually. Bonding is so hard between these two while trying to keep them in-character. But they will get together, sooner than ya'll think. And thanks again and again and again. I don't know how many times I can say thank you for supporting me. You make me blush! AHHHHHH. _

_**RainbowgasmWriter**: A yeeear? You better get on that, sweetcheeks. I might just stalk your stories now and review on all of them to get you to update. *throws pink hearts everywhere*_

_**naien543**: LOL why did you have to guess my ideas. D': Shhhh. Shinraknowsnothing._

_**Demonic Flower**: An.. awesome... writer? ;~; Just that simple line helped my self-confidence. Thank you! Bwaaaah, don't be sad! I have to finish this now just because you said you would be sad if it wasn't. OTHERWISE GUILT WOULD TAKE ME OVER._

_**Review's are my life support**. _


	14. Chance Encounter

Usually Izaya was a morning person. He was used to waking up early, sometimes even before the sun came up, and he would go downstairs and Namie would be making tea for him and the mornings were just…certainly not like this. He wasn't used to waking up with a pounding headache, half-laying on a couch that wasn't his, with no cup of tea to greet him, and a certain blond haired debt collector snoring on the couch across from him. Shizuo's belt, vest, and shoes are on the floor next to him. But, for some awkward reason, he still has his glasses on, which look like they're pushing into his face uncomfortably.

With a groan, Izaya pushes himself into a sitting position and massages his temples with his index and middle fingers, trying to rid himself of his throbbing hangover, before leaning across the table and peeling the sunglasses from Shizuo's face. He folds them neatly and sets them on the table.

Izaya goes back to rubbing his temples as he makes his way into the kitchen, searching through Shinra's cabinets until he finds the cups and pouring himself a glass of water. He sighs and leans against the kitchen's island, taking a large gulp of water. The cold liquid momentarily makes him forget about his headache—a sort of numbness, almost.

The window to the side of Izaya tells him that it's still early because the sky is a wiry grey.

How late had he stayed up last night? He couldn't remember falling asleep, or even how he ran into Shiki—who drove him to Shinra's. Fragments of the night were still there, but they were blurry.

He gulps down the rest of the water and sets the cup in the sink.

It takes him a while to actually find his coat and shoes, which were taken off by one of the three in the house, Izaya guessed; but he eventually found them in a closet close to Shinra's room. And just when he's finished slipping on his shoes, and is moving to pull his coat on, he hears that voice - that voice that seems to be following him everywhere lately. It never has anything valuable to say, so Izaya doesn't know why he sticks around to listen to it.

"You leaving already?" He's whispering, probably attempting to not awaken Shinra or Celty, but it's just loud enough for Izaya to make out. Izaya gives the blond a quick glance over his shoulder and gives a tight nod.

"Yeah," he whispers back.

For a moment, they stand in silence. Izaya doesn't know if he expects Shizuo to say something or if he's expecting himself to come up with something to say.

"Do you want some breakfast?" the blond blurts out suddenly. Izaya has to hold back an awkward laugh, more out of surprise than anything else.

"Actually I have some buisness to take care of, Shizu-chan," Izaya replies, turning his head away from the blond and shrugging on the rest of his coat. "Maybe some other time, yeah?"

Shizuo sighs, "Yeah..."

* * *

><p>"That was quite a show you put on last night, Orihara."<p>

Izaya lazily throws his coat over the back of his swivel chair before turning to the taller man with a smile. "It wasn't a "show", Shiki-san, it was totally honest."

"Heh," Shiki snorts, blowing out a puff of smoke in Izaya;'s direction, making the informant's nose wrinkle momentarily. "I never took you as the drinking type."

"It was just one of those days," Izaya says with a smile. "You should know what I'm talking about."

A thin laugh emerges from the older man. He crushes his cigarette onto the tray set out on the coffee table, and, for another moment, he says nothing. Instead he turns his attention to his steaming glass of tea that Namie had _so kindly_ made him. He fiddles with the handle for a few moments before bringing it up to his lips to take a small sip. Gently setting his glass back onto the table, he sighs, "You're still young, Orihara, you shouldn't have that much to worry about."

"Problems happen to everyone, Shiki-san. Whether you're young or you're old - you don't float through life like nothing is happening, life is a survival. And at the end of it, when you die, you congradulate yourself for being able to survive for so long."

"Oh?" Shiki inquires with a raised eyebrow. "Did I hit a nerve?"

"No," Izaya chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've been thinking a lot about life and death lately, and I guess I've become a little obsessed."

With another sigh, Shiki pats the cushion next to him. But it takes a moment for the informant to actually respond to the signal and step over to take a seat next to the older man.

"I know we're supposed to be talking about buisness," Shiki says slowly, eying Izaya out of the corner of his eye for any sort of response, "but if you ever need to talk... about them... I'm always hear to listen."

The hand that lands on Izaya's knee, squeezing gently in what should be a reassuring manner, doesn't feel at all soothing. And Izaya finds himself pulling away from that hand, and then pulling himself away from the couch all together.

"That's impossible..." Izaya says with a small laugh.

"I'm just letting you know I'm here, because I know you don't talk to people often." Shiki replies.

"It's too easy to fake it around you," Izaya whispers. Shiki finds his eyebrows raising in curiosity.

"Ah, I see," Shiki says, somewhat cautiously, in a way. "Do you already have someone you enjoy talking to?"

"No, it's nothing like that." Izaya runs a hand through his hair and lets out a long breath. "No one, actually. I don't like talking about it."

"So, it has nothing to do with _him_?" Shiki mumbles; quietly, almost as if he doesn't expect for Izaya to hear him.

"With who?" Izaya asks after a short pause, letting his hand drop back to his hip.

The chuckle that emerges from Shiki's throat makes Izaya jolt, because it's such a light-hearted sound coming from the older, yakuza boss - a sound that Izaya had never heard from him, even out of the many years he had known him. "You know who I'm talking about, Orihara," Shiki says with a side-ways smile. "I see a lot more in you than you think I do."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Izaya scoffs, finally piking up his own tea-cup from the table and busying himself with a drink. He lets out a small humble as the warm liquid rolls down his throat.

"Heiwajima," Shiki states simply, almost monotone like, and completely contrasting from the warm voice he had been using just before. Izaya is so surprised by the name that comes out of the other man's mouth that he almost spits out his second gulp of tea.

"What does this have to do with him?" Izaya grumbles after he manages to get the rest of his tea down.

Shiki narrows his eyes, but says nothing more. He couldn't tell what the informant was thinking and he probably would never be able to. But that didn't mean he didn't have his own ties to informantion. An informant should always be watched over, even if you think they are trustworthy. He knew more about Izaya than anyone - especially Izaya - thought he did.

And this informant - this man, Izaya Orihara - was a strange man indeed.

In brief, Shiki had never answered Izaya's question, but Izaya thought it better just to let the discussion drop. Shiki ended up leaving after a short discussion about a small gang trying to steal the yakuza funds; which all Izaya had to do was give the name of the gang and names of gang members and then their location(s), so it was easy enough. Shiki and his men would take care of the rest.

And even though Izaya had barely done anything that day, with so little informantion to give out, he felt exhausted - physically, emotionally, and mentally. He wished he could just crawl into his bed and sleep - oh, how he wished! But he had a few weeks worth of work to make up, so sleep would have to wait.

So, Izaya splashes some cold water on his face and slaps on a smile to greet his next client.

* * *

><p>Why the hell was his door bell ringing?<p>

Izaya lifts his head from his pillow and glares at the alarm clock sitting on his night stand. The glowing red numbers tell Izaya that it's only 7:03 AM. _It's too early to wake u_p he tells himself, and let's his head flop back down into the comfort of his pillow.

When the door bell rings a second time, Izaya jerks his head away from his pillow, his brow twitching in irritation. The sound seems to echo throughout the empty apartment, off of every wall and crevice. He points another nasty glare at his clock before shifting it to his bedroom door. And when the doorbell rings yet _again_, Izaya can't stop himself from snapping the covers from his body and storming out of his room. He's still dressed in his clothes from last night, and his hair is probably sticking up in multiple directions, and the bags under his eyes are probably a clear sign of his lake of sleep from last night (thanks to catching up on work and helping his clients all night); but Izaya really can't bring himself to care how he looks.

And so, he doesn't think twice when he throws his door open and says, in the nastiest tone he can manage, "I heard the doorbell the first time, so I obviously didn't answer it for a reason."

"That's no way to speak to your guests," is the man's immediate reply, in a tone equivalent to Izaya's own.

Izaya's face drops the moment he realizes who is exactly standing in his doorway. Always expect the unexpected from Shizuo Heiwajima.

"You're not a guest," Izaya says after a moment, though his words sound quick and edgy. "Now go away. I don't want to see you."

Izaya moves to close the door on the blond; but, as should be expected, Shizuo's hand is on the door before Izaya has time to close it fully, pushing the wooden door open forcefully.

"I need to talk to you," Shizuo says.

"Since when do you talk to me?" Izaya attempts to push the door shut once more, but it refuses to budge from the blond's hold. Izaya narrows his eyes menacingly up at the other man and let's his arm drop to his side in defeat, allowing Shizuo push the door open all the way.

How many times had this brute broken into Izaya's apartment, uninvited and unexpected?

Izaya has lost track of the exact number.

"Don't pull a fight with me, flea. You know we've been talking."

"That's not talking. That's listening to my drunken banter and not minding your own business." Izaya says - calmer, more put together now that he was actually awake and not half asleep. He unwittingly attempts to brush down the spikes of his hair with his fingers tips, trying to make himself look less disoriented and more put-together.

"What about at the caf-" Izaya's laugh forces Shizuo to cut off his own sentence out of mild surprise. His dark eyes widen slightly; though the blue sunglasses on his face hides some of his surprise.

"You really think I invited you out so I could talk to you? Really, Shizu-chan, you can't be that dull!" Izaya says once his laughing-fit is calmed. "Hah! Why would I want to talk with a neanderthal like you?"

Izaya watches as Shizuo's eyebrows pinch together and his forehead wrinkles, giving him a look of dismay or cogitation.

"Nothing has changed between us," Izaya pushes on. "And I don't want it to change." Izaya lowers his eyes to the floor when he says this; letting his eyes skim over the shine on Shizuo's dress shoes. He doesn't know why he looked away, it was so confusing. It could have been the small pinch in his chest he felt when he said that, or the fact that he knew he was lying - not only to Shizuo but to himself as well.

What happened to the dangerous informant who could meet Shizuo's glare head-on?

...Where was he now?

"I-" Shizuo starts. Izaya glances up at the blond through his eyelashes, momentarily. "-don't want to fight!" Shizuo blurts out. He still has that look on his face; derived, a look that says he wants to say more but he's holding himself back. And Izaya glances back down at the ground, letting his eyes tracer the pattern of his carpet this time.

"Why?" is all he can wonder. _Why don't you hate me anymore?_

"I don't know," Shizuo mumbles, "but I can't bring myself to fight you anymore."

Izaya's face feels so hot - much too hot for his liking, and so he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"Well I still hate you," he says.

Shizuo brings a hand up to rub at the side of his face, the gesture making his glasses crooked. For a minute they stand in silence, neither wanting to be the first to speak. Izaya's fists clench at his sides from the tension that seems to float around him in waves. While, Shizuo, fiddles idly with his glasses before removing them entirely and folding them within his vest. Another moment passes and neither of them speak, and the aura is so heavy around them, sinking into their muscles and bones and making them droop in their standing positions.

Shizuo growls loudly, and suddenly, but Izaya doesn't jump - he doesn't move. All he wants to do is keep staring at the carpet and wait for the brute to walk away, that's all he wanted. Just go away go away _go away _right now and forget everything they had went through the past few weeks. But a strong hand grips Izaya's chin and forces it up so his eyes can meet Shizuo's; it startles him. And no matter how hard to tries to turn his head away, the grip on his chin keeps him staring forward, straight into those deep honey-brown eyes.

Izaya opens his mouth, to say something, he supposes, but he doesn't know what exactly. He stands with his mouth open, silently, and staring helplessly at the man in front of him.

"I'll never hate you less, Izaya," Shizuo says, almost cautiously; and finally breaking the silence, "but I think I can bring myself to love you more."

* * *

><p><em>I suck so much at mushy stuff omg. I'm so sorry.<em>

_At least you get an update right? **READ**: Speaking of which - I'm so so so sorry about the lateness of this update (it's been almost a month! D:) but, if you haven't seen my profile yet, my computer recently crashed which means I lost all of my stories/chapters and I had to retype this at school in two days because I really wanted to update this for all of you. BTW, if you haven't noticed, this chapter is slightly longer than all the others because it's an I'm-so-entirely-sorry gift for not updating sooner._

_I hate begging for reviews but **THEY MAKE ME TYPE SO MUCH FASTER**, please. They're my life support._


	15. Irrelevant

Is it possible to come to love something you hate?

Izaya can't hear anything over the sound of his heart beat, a study _thump thump thump_ filling his ears. He doesn't even hear the next thing Shizuo's says, just watches his lips move and the small smile that graces them after he speaks.

"You can't," he attempts to say but it ends up sounding like a pitiful whine to his own ears.

"I can, Izaya," Shizuo urges.

"Don't say that; don't do this." Izaya swats Shizuo's hand away and takes a few steady steps backwards, further into his apartment, and further away from that warmth. Shizuo frowns in the doorway, but after a few moments he follows Izaya's steps, closing the door behind him to give them more privacy.

"Please," the blond says, extending an arm out towards the brunet.

_Warmth_—so tempting and so inviting.

...But he can't, he mustn't; because all of this is impossible.

"I hate you!" Izaya screams, startling Shizuo as well as himself; hence why they both jump at the loudness of Izaya's voice. Shizuo lets his arm drop back to his side without a word. He looks hurt, Izaya takes notice. He looks too fucking vulnerable to be Shizuo Heiwajima.

"Now get out," Izaya whispers, forcing himself to sound more calm than he's actually feeling.

"Izaya-" the blond tries. Izaya holds up a hand and Shizuo falls silent, eyeing the brunet quizzically.

"This is not us, Shizuo," Izaya says. Shizuo physically twitches - whether from surprise or excitement - at the use of his full name, instead of the usual nickname. "People like us aren't meant to love," Izaya goes on. "We're socities monsters, we don't belong and we don't feel."

"I know what I want," Shizuo growls, stronger and sterner than his voice had been moments again. His eyebrows are furrowed in that angry way Izaya is so familiar with.

Izaya gives an irritated groan. "Why are you trying so hard?"

"Because someone helped me realized that I love being around you." Izaya pulls himself back a few steps when Shizuo draws himself closer to the informant. "I didn't realize I could even feel actually," Shizuo chuckles, "but when I'm around you, all I want to do is make you happy; and even if I hate you at times, I love you when your not being a dick."

_Love? Love... him? _Izaya wrinkles his nose, but doesn't voice his opinion on the words.

"Yesterday- the day before yesterday, you know- that night- fuck," Shizuo stops to rub the back of his palm against his forehead. He's sweating, a lot. Izaya has never seen Shizuo look nervous before, and he doesn't know whether he likes the new show of emotion or he wants to kick Shizuo out of his house still...

"What I'm trying-" Shizuo takes a deep breath and clasps both hands onto Izaya's shoulders tightly, trapping the informant as he leans in and takes another deep breath before yelling, "What I'm trying to say is that I was_ really_ hoping you would kiss me that night, Izaya! So bad.. and I don't even know why."

Izaya finds himself turning his head away to avoid the sudden gaze Shizuo pins him with. His face is heating up for the second time that day, and his heart is beating faster than he thought possible.

"I know it's fucking sudden and it's weird for me, too," Shizuo continues when Izaya doesn't speak.

"Weird for who?" Izaya snaps. "You're the one who comes over here and confesses, and says things as if I feel the same way about you. Did you once consider that I still hate you, Shizuo? Did you once consider that I don't want your help with anything?"

"No, I-"

"No, you didn't. Why? Because you're ignorant and you have a tendency to not think into things before you run around yelling."

Shizuo falls silent once again. At one point he parts his lips as if to say something but he snaps them shut a second later. Laughter fills the apartment from a couple that had just exited their own apartment across the hall from Izaya's; a women giggling and a man telling jokes that aren't very funny. It's only when the laughter of the couple exits to the elevator before disappearing entirely, that Shizuo speaks:

"You're right, I didn't take your feelings into consideration," he says. "I was just... so intent... on being there for you, I guess."

Izaya gives him a wiry glance out of the corners of his eyes. Their eyes meet for a second - a second that seems much longer than it had been - then Shizuo turns away, giving a heavy sigh.

"I'll leave now."

There it is again - that pain; pinching, squeezing, scratching at his lungs and chest. It's horrible, it's sickening; it feels like his heart is actually breaking.

Shizuo gives him one last over-the-shoulder look before turning and walking out of the apartment. The door slams behind him, and the sound makes Izaya's heart clench more. A clock hanging on a wall in the kitchen gives a small tick-tock every now and then; it only hollows the silence even more.

Why did this have to happen?

Why did everything have to change?

He hates it. He hates it and he wishes things would stop changing and go back to the way they were.

Izaya wishes - Izaya wishes - Izaya _wishes _that Shizuo still hated him; that Shiki didn't attempt to get into his personal life; that Shinra had stayed the cheerful doctor he had always been and had not said those rude things; and he wishes his dad would answer his calls, because he misses him and he wants to hear his voice, even if it is saying illogical things. He wishes he didn't feel like crying every day and every night, and he prayed that this depression that hung over him would disappear. He wishes he could see his mother's beautiful face one more time; he wished he could have watched his sister's grow up, maybe marry and have children, but grow up all the same.

And, most of all, Izaya wishes he wasn't such an arrogant asshole so he actually had someone to rely on at times like this. The one person who was willing to help him was his enemy. He was supposed to hate Shizuo; he was supposed to kill Shizuo whenever he got the chance. So why? _Why_?

"Wait," Izaya whispers, even though he knows there's no one in the room to hear him. Some part of him expected Shizuo to waltz right back into the room, starting to spout about love and feelings again; but he doesn't. He isn't coming. Izaya didn't know why he expected him to, but Izaya secretly hoped he would.

* * *

><p><em>Wai, look at dis. <em>

_I already started writing the next chapter, so it should be up soon. Review and it'll be up sooner. ;1 __Oh! and you'll finally get to see why this fiction is rated M in either the next chapter or the one after that (or probably both.) Just a warning!_


	16. Circulation

He's currently asking himself why he even tried. He never expected a positive reaction; he knew he was not going to walk in and confess and then expect Izaya to fall into his arms like some romantic comedy. He had told himself these things a million times on his way to Izaya's apartment. He knew, he knew - then _why_? why did it hurt so much?

He glances up at the blinking numbers on the pallet of the elevator, watching with hollow eyes the as the numbers count down—third floor, second floor, first floor, stop. The elevator shakes every time it comes to a stop. And it scared the shit out of Shizuo. He closes his eyes tightly, willing the images of the elevator shutting down and trapping him inside the small container away. He sighs, content, when he hears the elevator doors click and slide open. His head may be pounding, and his chest may be aching, but at least he wasn't trapped in that tedious metal box.

He slowly opens his eyes and takes a step forward at the same time; but he finds himself stopping, and slowly taking a step back into the elevator. Only because Izaya's standing in front of the elevator, looking exhausted. Shizuo glances at the staircase adjacent from them before returning his eyes to the brunet with a curious eyebrow raised.

Izaya slowly straightens himself, sweeping a quick hand through his messy hair in an attempt to make himself look more presentable, and not like_ he just ran down three floors of stairs_.

"Alright," he breathes, "I'm ready to talk."

Shizuo slaps a hand on the elevator door as it automatically moves to close between the two of them. Both of them give a wary look at the elevator doors but neither of them move from their spots, mostly because Shizuo can't step out of the elevator because Izaya is blocking his only way out and he doesn't look like he is deciding to move anytime soon.

"What do you mean?" Shizuo asks slowly, even though he knows exactly what Izaya is referring to. Maybe he just wanted to hear what Izaya would say...

"I know how you feel," Izaya sighs.

_The fuck you do, _Shizuo's mind flares almost instantly_. _ "You already made it clear that I was pushing my feelings onto you and that you don't feel the same, so what the fuck?" Shizuo spits, feeling a familiar ting of his old rage.

"I know-"

"No!" Shizuo interrupts. "You don't know how it feels to think about you all the fucking time - "What is he doing?" and "Is he alright?" And I can't help it! It's horrible and it makes me angry and I wish I could just get rid of you and these feelings but I fucking can't."

Izaya stays silent for a moment, his own unsteady gaze fixed on Shizuo's unwavering eyes. Izaya looks a lot more calm than before, and it kind of agitates Shizuo for a reason unknown to him. Heck, there's a lot of things he does nowadays for unknown reasons. But, still, Izaya shouldn't look so put together; he shouldn't look like he knows what he is doing. Shizuo allows himself to take a large breath and hold it, his lips pressing together so tightly that he thinks he feels a slight tint of pain, even through his high tolerance.

"I don't know," Izaya says, in a brave yet snarky tone that remind Shizuo of the old days and sends his angry flaring once again. He clenches his fist. "I don't know what I'm feeling right now." Izaya pauses to let a weak laugh roll past his lips and runs a hand through his sloppy hair again. "I feel calm around you, alright? I should be hating you, and I think I try to convince myself that I still do. Don't get me wrong, Shizu-chan, I still despise the fact that you're a beast - a freak of nature." He pauses again as Shizuo lets out the breath he was holding in, his eyebrows pinching together in either anger or confusion - he can't really tell now. Shizuo's feelings feel like they're going hay-wire. "But," Izaya goes on. "I do like having you around. I feel like everything disappears when you're around... everything disappears when I hear your voice, feel your touch, even having sappy conversations like this with you."

"Why the change of mind all of a sudden?" Shizuo demands.

"I realized it after you left," Izaya sighs. "I felt... I don't know... lost, in a way."

"How do I know your not fucking with me?"

Izaya tilts his head and gives Shizuo a bewildered look. "Did you not hear anything I just said?"

"But-"

"I just spilled information about my own feelings. And to you, of all people!"

"And so did I!" Shizuo yells, slapping a hand against the door of the elevator as it tries to close again; but this time the metal crunches under the weight of his fingers, putting dents into the reflective steel. "Don't you remember Izaya? Up in your apartment? I told you how much I was willing to do for you and you kicked me out. How could you-"

Shizuo blinks, a couple of times actually. In a moment, Izaya had sprung forward with both of his hands pressing against Shizuo's shoulders. Caught of guard, Shizuo clumsily stumbled back into the elevator. One of the informant's arms lock around Shizuo's neck when he gets close enough and he forces Shizuo's head down until Izaya can press his lips against the others.

Shizuo takes a deep breath in through his nostrils, and the only thing he can smell is Izaya - a mixture of sencha and must. Izaya pulls back after a moment but Shizuo finds himself following the retreading lips, yearning for their warmth. His heart feels like it's thundering against his chest.

"I need you_ now_," Izaya whispers just before their lips reconnect. Shizuo didn't have much experience with kissing, so when he tries tilting his head at a weird angle, in an attempt to deepen or make the kiss more comfortable, Izaya gives a light laugh and reaches out with both hands to hold Shizuo's head still so he can take control of the kiss. He lets his tongue slip between his own lips, albeit slowly, to run across Shizuo's lower lip. The blond jumps at the feelings but opens his mouth, almost awkwardly, to allow the others tongue to snake in and coax Shizuo's own tongue into action. The kiss is still sloppy; mostly sweeping of tongues, deep breaths, and smacking of their lips as they dive back in to taste each other.

At one point, Izaya's mind finally registers that the elevator door has closed behind them, so he reaches a hand back and presses it against the button (which he really hopes is his floor.) Shizuo jolts when he feels the elevator move, pulling away from the kiss and looking around the elevator, briefly. Izaya can't help but be slightly amused at the panicked look in Shizuo's eyes.

"Where are we going?" Shizuo gasps; both from the kiss and from his surprise of the elevator jolting to life without his knowing.

"My apartment," Izaya says simply, with the hint of a smirk, "so you can start to work on making me love you."

* * *

><p><em>I KNOW I SAID THIS WOULD BE UP SOON BUT I GOT SUPER BUSY. I'M REALLY SORRY.<em>


	17. Lust & Greed

_So you can start to work on making me love you._

That line made Shizuo's stomach swirl.

Before the blond can even come up with a coherent reply Izaya is on him again, meshing their lips; while his jittery hands move to undo the buttons on Shizuo's vest.

Honestly, this was nothing close to what Shizuo had been expecting. He had expected to walk out of that apartment with Izaya's knife sticking out of his neck, and a painfully throbbing broken heart. The least he expected was to have Izaya flush against him and momentarily attempting to undress him in a fucking elevator, giving and receiving sloppy kisses that Shizuo tried his best to keep up with despite his inexperience.

This wasn't the way it was supposed to work out. Shizuo didn't know much about relationships but weren't you supposed to date said person for a while before they bring you back to their apartment? That was the way it went in movies, and in books Shizuo had read, and the basic stories Shizuo had heard about Kasuka's love life. Was it natural for two people who loved each other to start the first beginnings of their relationship in bed?

Oh wait, that's right—Izaya doesn't love him. He may feel safe and not so depressed when he's around Shizuo, like he had said, but he didn't say anything about having deeper feelings for the blond.

"Flea," Shizuo groans, grabbing at the back of Izaya's shirt and tugging him away so the blond could speak properly. "I don't know if this is a good idea."

"What's not a good idea?" Izaya says, in a breathless way that leaves the hairs on the back of Shizuo's neck standing. The narrow yet seductive glare Izaya is giving him isn't help much either.

"This," Shizuo says, releasing Izaya's shirt and using both arms to gesture in between them. "I want—" Shizuo cuts himself off, clearing his throat.

What was he going to say? I want _what_?

"I know what I want," Izaya says, stepping forward and winding his arms around Shizuo's middle. His lips press into a thin line, almost forming a frown, something that looks so wrong on his normally smirking face. "I know what I need, Shizu-chan. And I _really_ need this right now; don't ruin it for me."

As the elevator doors part, Izaya pulls himself away from Shizuo and steps out of the metal container. Shizuo takes hesitant steps after the brunet as he makes his way back to apartment door. Shizuo doesn't know what he is supposed to do—it's not like he doesn't want to do other things with Izaya. But, at this moment, being close to Izaya and knowing that he was safe was enough for him. The kiss had been like… extra credit, he supposed. He wasn't expecting it but he didn't dislike it either.

This wasn't sexual for Shizuo—yeah, he found Izaya attractive—but he had come to Izaya's home to express his feelings in a different way. If this was what Izaya wanted however, Shizuo would be happy to help him.

As long as Izaya doesn't cry, or open his huge mouth a spit something to ruin Shizuo's mood—both of these situations would end up bad, either with Shizuo trying his best, but lacking, to comfort a broken Izaya or Shizuo trying his best to keep himself from punching the informant in the face and chucking him out of his apartment's window…

When Shizuo reaches the doorway, he slips his own shoes off beside Izaya's and glances around the open living area; where Izaya is no where to be found.

Great, he loses sight of the flea for one minute and he completely disappears.

"Izaya," Shizuo calls after a short moment. He takes a few more steps further into the apartment and glances up the stairs. Oh, those fimiliar stairs. He remembers when he came here, on the day of Izaya's family's funeral, accusing him of plotting against Ikebukuro. Izaya must have been hurting so much at that point, and both Shizuo and Celty failed to notice.

A tap on his shoulder makes Shizuo jump and turn quickly, clenched fists raised in a defending manner; but when delicate hands wrap themselves around his clenched fists, almost feeling like their sucking all his anger away, Shizuo can't help the wave of relief that washes of him at feeling Izaya's touch. Though his fingers were slightly cold, and smaller than Shizuo's, they were very soft compared to his own uncultivated hands. Turning his hands so he can wrap his own fingers around Izaya's hands, he lifts one of them to press the soft skin against the tips of his lips. All the while Izaya's watching him silently, though there's a contemplative sadness sprawled across his features that Shizuo feels like he should question, but instead he stays silent.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Shizuo whispers against the back of Izaya's hand.

Izaya sighs, "You're making this a lot more complicated than it has to be, Shizu-chan."

"I just don't want you to regret this," Shizuo sighs in return, lowering Izaya's hand and holding it between them, beside the opposite one. "I know you've had enough with all this sappy shit—I have too—but I just don't want this to be…" Shizuo stops himself, and clears his throat. He feels his face and ears heating up almost immediately. What was he going to say—_again_? What the hell was he supposed to say in a situation like? _I don't want this to be a one time thing?_ Fuck, Shizuo, don't make yourself sound like a silly junior high girl.

Izaya watches him for a couple of moments and it only makes Shizuo's face heat up even more. He clenches his teeth and refuses to meet Izaya's eyes.

Izaya takes this moment to unwind his left hand from Shizuo's and using it to slip one side of the black vest off of Shizuo's shoulder. Then, leaning forward, Izaya presses his lips against the hollow of Shizuo's neck, pulling back only millimeter to let his warm breath rack over tan skin.

"I want this," Izaya assures, then in a quieter voice he adds, "This will help me forget." He presses his lips against Shizuo's neck again, and Shizuo doesn't make any sort of movement, even when Izaya moves both hands so he can undo the top buttons of Shizuo's dress shirt.

_This will help me forget_.

Those words stung Shizuo for some reason.

The next thing he knows, he's hovering over Izaya, with their lips mingled again. He doesn't remember how they even managed to get up the stairs and into Izaya's bed, but Shizuo tries not to look back on it too much and focus on the brunet under him. Shizuo's dress shirt is unbuttoned entirely now, and it hangs loosely off of the sides of his body. Izaya's hands are running up and down his chest, taking their time to dip in and smooth his tense muscles with his finger tips, and Shizuo finds himself groaning into the kiss when Izaya presses the pad of his thumb against one of Shizuo's nipples.

Shizuo breaks the kiss so he can reach down and pull Izaya's black shirt over his head, futhering rustling the brunet's already messy hair. He doesn't even get a legitimate look at Izaya's naked torso before the brunet is wrapped around him again, pulling Shizuo closer so he can lean up and lick along the shell of the blondes ear.

Shizuo lets out a shaky sigh.

This wasn't fair. It felt like Izaya knew all the right places the touch; while Shizuo barely had a clue of what he was supposed to be doing. Sex was easy enough to grasp, but he wasn't too… knowledgeable on how foreplay went.

What was he supposed to do? Where was he supposed to touch?

Shizuo shuts his eyes tightly when Izaya gives a sharp nip at his ear lobe.

_Embarrassing_. This was embarrassing.

Untangling himself from the informant arms, Shizuo puts his palm on Izaya's chest to push slighter man flat onto his back. Izaya falls back into the pillow placed behind him with a huff. "What?" he demands. "Did I do something you didn't like?"

Shizuo's only reply is a soft growl before he dips down and runs the flat of his tongue over Izaya's left nipple. The soft gasp that falls from Izaya's lips gives him all the courage he needs to do it again, this time stopping to circle the hardening nub with the tip of his tongue. When another encouraging gasp escapes the brunet, Shizuo uses his other finger to pinch lightly at the abandoned nipple, savoring the feeling of it hardening under his fingers tips.

"Enough with the nipples," Izaya sighs, his chest heaving somewhat. He pushes his hand against the top of Shizuo's head, signaling him to go further down… And Shizuo, albeit hesitantly, moves lower on Izaya's torso, licking and nipping at the pale skin as he moves lower. He feels the informant's thin fingers curl into his hair when he reaches the brunet's pants. Black pajama shorts replace Izaya's usual black jeans today, so they're quite easy for Shizuo to slip off Izaya's hips; they're stretchable and they slide right out from under the informant when Shizuo pulls at them.

"Eager?" Izaya comments with a laugh, lifting his hips to adjust himself on the bed before settling back down. A bulge can be seen clearly through Izaya's black briefs; and Shizuo swallows the thick lump that forms in his throat from the sight.

"Not at all," Shizuo replies. It's supposed to be meant as humorous, but the lack of a smile added to it makes Izaya purse his lips in a pouting manner.

"That's very reassuring," Izaya drawls. "It makes me feel like you're _really_ into this, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo lets his eyes roam up Izaya's body so he can meet the others ruby irises. "Was that sarcasm?"

Izaya merely rolls his eyes.

"Don't start with me right now," Shizuo snorts. "This is not a time to fight."

"I don't want you to force yourself to do something you don't want," Izaya replies just as nastily.

With a roll of his eyes (lots of eye rolling today, ne?), Shizuo puts his hand over the bulge in Izaya's boxers and gives it a firm squeeze. "Shut up, flea, you're the one who wanted this."

Izaya groans, pushing his head back into the pillow when Shizuo gives him another squeeze, though not as strong as the first. "I need this more than I want it."

Shizuo can't help but feel uneasy by those words. Shizuo wanted this more than he needed it. Because he wanted to help Izaya; he wanted to save Izaya, and if this is what Izaya wanted him to do then he would do it.

But those words - they completely contradiced his thoughts.

Shizuo's brought back to reality when Izaya rolls his hips up into his hand, which is still settled over the lump in Izaya's boxers, unmoving. With a sheepish smile, Shizuo draws his hand away. "Sorry," he says, then adds a nervous cough. "I kind of... dozed off a little."

Izaya narrows his eyes and pushes himself up onto his elbows so he can lay a kiss on the blond's lips. "Sorry for being so boring. I suppose I'll have to work to keep your attention from now on, ne?"

"You little shit, you've had my full attention for the past week," Shizuo mutters just before Izaya lays another kiss on him. He doesn't even get a chance to return the gesture before Izaya pulls away again, smiling.

"Oh~?" he inquires with a raised eyebrow. "You really think about me that much, Shizu-chan?"

More out of the sudden wave of embarrassment that comes over him than frustration, Shizuo slaps a hand over Izaya's mouth, sending the informant flopping back into the comfort of his pillow once more, and shifts his weight about until he can kneel comfortably between Izaya's thighs. Shizuo's ruined his own image enough today and he didn't need Izaya digging him a deeper hole. It wasn't that he regretted his thoughts about Izaya, or that he hated them in anyway; but he could just see how Izaya would turn those feelings against him just to make him angry. And he really didn't need that right now, especially not when he had a mostly naked informant laying under him.

With one hand still pressed against Izaya's mouth, Shizuo uses his other hand to pull Izaya's boxers down just enough to free his erection. It's not fully erect and it droops slightly towards Izaya's belly, but even so, the sight makes Shizuo stomach boil. To put it bluntly: he has to keep himself from licking his lips.

"Stop staring," Izaya mutters. Shizuo glances up at him with a quirked eyebrow, ready to tease him about being flustered from Shizuo exposing him, but the sight of Izaya makes him stop. The informant is red cheeked and his nose wrinkled in that cute way Shizuo likes.

Yeah... Izaya's face is definitely Shizuo's favorite part of him.

* * *

><p><em>hides._

_I didn't clockblock you totally so please dont kill me or kidnap me. Meep._

_AWFUL SMUT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER GUYS OMG, REVIEW FOR YOUR SMUT YUM._


	18. Don't You Dare

Shizuo removes his hand from Izaya's mouth and quickly replaces it with his lips before the informant can say anything. There's no tongue or any extra force added behind the kiss, just a simple peek of the lips, much more tender than the kisses they had shared earlier on the elevator. Shizuo keeps his lips pressed against Izaya's while he moves his hand to stroke the base of Izaya's erection, a swift up and down motion that leaves Izaya breathing against his lips heavily.

"Shizu-chan," Izaya mewls when Shizuo gives a sudden hard jerk of his wrist; Izaya cups Shizuo's cheeks and pulls him down into another kiss. He nips at Shizuo's lips, earning a low growl from the blond. But then he runs his tongue over the sore bite mark, almost in apology, and Shizuo hums at the attention.

"I want to touch you too," Izaya says when he pulls away, reaching between them and hooking his fingers onto the band of Shizuo's pants. Shizuo uses his free hand to grab Izaya's wrist and yank it away however, and then moves to pin it on the sheets beside Izaya's head as he continues to stroke the brunet, feeling the heated skin underneath his hand slicken with precum when he runs the palm of his hand over Izaya's throbbing head. Underneath him, Izaya has started to buck up into his hand, releasing small gasps of pleasure every time he rolls his hips just right.

"Shizu-" Izaya gasps, and moves to grab at Shizuo's pumping wrist with his only free hand; while he tries to wiggly the other one free from Shizuo's hold. "Stop...! too fast.. too fast!" The hand pumping him speeds up; jerking up and down quickly. And the movement is all too much for Izaya; he throws his head back into the pillow and squeezes his eyes shut, his mouth falling open in a silent scream.

Shizuo grimaces at the feeling of Izaya's release hitting his stomach and pulls back to scowl down at the mess. And with a quick look around the room, Shizuo doesn't spot a towel or rag that could assist him with the mess.

"You deserved that," Izaya says from the bed, his tone on the verge of teasing, but the lack of breath said with it makes it come out as almost a whisper. Shizuo peels off the rest of his shirt and then moves to clean off his stomach with said shirt, but Izaya sits up and grabs his wrists quickly, jerking Shizuo's arm away from his stomach.

"That's disgusting! Don't clean up my crap with your shirt!" Izaya spits, ripping the white dress shirt from Shizuo's hands and throwing it on the ground.

Shizuo rolls his eyes. "I could always wash it later, so it's not that big of a deal. Besides," Shizuo continues with a pointed look down at his torso and jeans. "It's on my pants too."

Izaya sighs and lifts himself from the bed, shuffling towards a thin closest door and pulling it open. Shizuo watches idly from the bed as a nude Izaya pulls out a towel and chucks it at him. Shizuo was mostly watching the informant's ass; but no one had to know that.

Shizuo catches the towel and cleans his stomach as Izaya strolls back to the bed, a slight swing in his hips and a smirk spreading across his face. Reaching Shizuo, he rests his palms on the blonde's legs and massages the tense muscles of Shizuo's thighs through his black pants.

"I guess you will just have to take these off too, ne?" Izaya suggests with a wink. Shizuo opens his mouth to spit some sort of retort, but instead he only lets out a small "Uh" as Izaya runs his hands up Shizuo's legs and starts to work at the button of his pants.

"Flea, I still don't think this is a good idea," Shizuo finds himself saying when Izaya is ripping down his ripper. Izaya pauses, resting his hands back on Shizuo's thighs again and glancing up at him.

"We already started this," Izaya says, "and I'm not about to turn back now, Shizu-chan."

"We don't have to go all the way our first time-" Shizuo starts; he's cut off by Izaya's laughter however.

"What makes you think something like this will happen again?" Izaya says after he's calmed his laughter. "We could go back to hating each other right after this, you never know."

Shizuo narrows his eyes. "Why would I go back to hating you again?" When all Izaya does is lower his gaze to somewhere on the bed beside them, Shizuo grabs his chin and yanks Izaya's face up so Shizuo can look him in the eye. "I _confessed_ to you, Izaya," Shizuo says. "I meant every word I said and I'm not going to take it back. Why can't you seem to grasp that?"

"Shizu-chan." Izaya sighs, his fingers drumming against Shizuo's thighs. Whether it's from his impatience or nervousness Shizuo can't tell; but he tries to ignore the annoying movement as Izaya continues speaking: "I know you meant what you said - I really do; but it's not you I'm worried about, it's me."

"But you even said-" Shizuo starts, but Izaya quickly cuts in.

"I know what I said," the brunet says, eyes never leaving Shizuo's. "and I meant what I said; but I'm not sure about my feelings towards you still. I don't know whether to adore our new found..._ fascination_ for each other," Izaya drawls, "or hate it... because I've always hated you, Shizu-chan, and that's what I'm used to doing. So I want to try this to prove my feelings."

_His story was all over the place_, was Shizuo's first thought on Izaya's words. First Izaya was saying he wanted Shizuo's comfort - he liked it - and he wanted this to help him to forget. And now he's saying that he needs this to prove his feelings towards Shizuo.

Shizuo didn't know what to trust; and he didn't know which one he would prefer either.

Shizuo sighs, shaking his head and finally breaking eye contact with the informant. This wasn't right.

"I think we've gone far enough for today," Shizuo says slowly, glancing at Izaya just in time to catch his frustrated expression before it dissolves into a normal, more boring look.

"Fine," Izaya spits, and Shizuo can tell the brunet is angry with him by the slight furrow of his eyebrows. "If that's what you want."

"This doesn't change my feelings towards you," Shizuo quickly adds. "I'll come back to see you again soon."

Izaya merely huffs, removing himself from Shizuo completely and walking out of the door. Shizuo guesses he made his way to the bathroom when he hears the slamming of another door not so far away.

Slowly, Shizuo rests his head in his hands and sighs.

"Why are you so fucking complicated," he whispers to himself. The soft shim of shower water fills the silence of Izaya's bedroom the next moment, and Shizuo digs his fingers into his own hair and yanks it lightly out of frustration.

* * *

><p><em>Whoops. This is a late update and it's not even a full smut scene. I was going to make it a full smut scene, but half way through I change my mind. SORRY. But don't worry, there will be more smut! Probably a lot, in fact. Enjoy the angst and confusion going on between Shizuo and Izaya for now.<br>_

_P.S. - **Reviews are loved**. And since I finally have time to start writing again, I'll be updating faster and what not. :)  
><em>


	19. Remember Me, I

_"Izaya..."_

_Large red eyes snapped up at the soft voice. The young boy smiled at the sight of his mother, and he stands up from his position on the ground, stepping over the scattered toys to reach the women. "Mom!"_

_The dark-haired women crouches down in front of her son, being careful not to rustled the two infants in her arms as she did so._

_"Izaya, I want you to meet your new siblings," she says in that tender, loving voice that she always uses when she's talking to her son. __Izaya peers down at the two small children in her arms. They're both wrapped in pink cliche baby blankets and snoozing softly. _

_"What are their names?" he asks softly._

_"This," his mother says with a gesture of her head to the baby in her right arm, "is Mairu."_

_"Mairu..." Izaya says slowly, staring down at the sleeping babe with curious eyes._

_"And this - " his mother continues with a gesture of her head to the other infant. "This is Kururi."_

_Izaya smiles. "Mairu and Kururi; I like them."_

_"I'm glad," his mother says with a gentle laugh. __Just then, Izaya's dad steps into the doorway and scowls down at the mess on the floor before pointed a finger at his son._

_"Clean up your mess," he grunts at Izaya. "You know I don't like when you leave your crap laying around."_

_Izaya's smile drops but he nods and moves to clean up the mess; while his father leads his mom off to their home nursery. _

_He loves the fact that he will have two little sisters. He can't help smiling at the thought of being the elder sibling - teaching them the ropes and teasing them playfully._

_But he's worried too._

_Once all his toys are picked up, Izaya sneaks off towards his sister's nursery, cracking the door open and peering inside. Inside, his mom and dad are huddled over the twin-styled double crib, whispering to each other. They are both smiling - they look so happy._

_And Izaya's happy too._

_He just doesn't want to be forgotten..._

* * *

><p><em>Ring…<em>

_Ring…_

_Ring…_

"_Good evening, this is Orihara Hideaki. I am not able to pick up my phone at this time, but leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as I—"_

Izaya ends the call quickly, not wanting to hear the annoying women's voice that pops up after his dads voice mail message to ask him whether he would like to leave a message of his own. He knew even if he did that his dad would not call him back. His dad never answered his calls or called him back when he did call; instead he completely ignored his son. Izaya didn't know why he was still trying to contact his father.

"Still no answer?" his assistants' voice says from the couch area. Izaya, who is sitting at his desk, turns in his chair to face his assistant with a smile and a small shrug.

"Yeah," he says, then adds with a dismissive wave of the hand: "but that doesn't matter. He's probably busy."

"I don't think he's busy," she says quickly in reply. Izaya feels his smile drop momentarily.

"He is," Izaya retorts. "He would pick up otherwise."

"It's obvious why he isn't picking up," she continues; though now she lifts herself from her place on the couch and makes her way over to Izaya's desk, where she rests both palms on the top of the black painted wood and looks Izaya in the eye.

Izaya doesn't falter from her gaze. He smiles again. "Oh?" he inquires with the tilt of his head. "Then would you _please_ tell me why he wouldn't pick up for his beloved son?"

"Izaya," Namie groans out, almost sounding irritated, "don't play this bullshit 'I'm so innocent' game with me. You know why your dad refuses to talk to you."

Izaya rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "I didn't do anything."

And then Namie smiles; or Izaya thinks it's a smile. It's more like a slight upward twitch of the lips. "I know you didn't," she says, reaching out and running her thumb across Izaya's cheek bone. Izaya moves away from the touch with furrowed brows, and Namie withdraws with a sigh. "You don't have to worry about him because you did nothing, and you know you didn't. He's just being selfish."

"He will be forced to call me back eventually," Izaya sighs, turning his chair away from the women to face his window. The sun should be going down soon; the sky is growing dimmer. "You should head out for the day, I can take care of the rest of the work on my own."

But, instead, Namie makes her way around the desk and rests her hands on his shoulders from over the back of his chair. Izaya jumps, surprised, but Namie's pressing fingers keep him from getting up from his seat.

"What's with you today?" Izaya sneers, eyes narrowing at Namie's reflection in the window.

"You know," Namie whispers, right in Izaya's ear. The hot breath that fans over Izaya's ear and cheek make the informant tense even more than he already was. "I came in for work the other day and I heard you and Shizuo."

Izaya presses his lips together tightly, silently watching his assistants reflection.

"I never knew you could show someone such a vulnerable side of you," she goes on when he does not reply.

"How did we get on this subject?" Izaya cuts in before the women can say anything else. "We were talking about my father."

Namie is silent for a moment, until he gives a soft chuckle. "I'm just curious on how someone like him can get you to show_ that_ side of you."

Just then, Izaya's phone rings. The sudden loud beeping makes them both jump and Namie quickly peels herself and away from her boss so he can turn and pick up the phone.

"Hello?" Izaya answers, all the while keeping a close eye on his assistant.

When there's no answer on the other end aside from the deep breathing Izaya can hear, Izaya makes a face. "Hello?" he tries again.

He can still hear the deep breathing on the other end, but the person does not make a move to speak to him.

"Who is this?" Izaya asks, raising his voice a little.

Still no answer.

Izaya ends the call, irritated.

And it seems right when he presses the end up, the phone rings again, making the two in the room jump once again.

Izaya answers the phone again; but this time says nothing when he brings the phone to his ear. The sound of deep breathing continues through the speakers, and the person on the other stays silent.

"Hello?" Izaya tries, once again, even though he can already guess what the answer will be.

Nothing.

Izaya quickly presses the end button, dropping his phone onto his desk and pushing himself up from his seat. He doesn't bother grabbing the mobile device as he moves around Namie to grab his coat from a hook near the doorway.

"Where are you going?" she asks when Izaya shrugs on the material.

"Out," Izaya mumbles. "And you better be gone by the time I get back."

Namie silently watches as Izaya exits the apartment. A few moments later, Izaya's phone rings again. She glances down at the small device before she picks it up and presses the answer button, slowly bringing it to her ear.

"Izaya is not able to come to his phone at the moment, may I take a message?"

But no one answers her. Instead, she's greeted by a deep inhale of air and then a shaky exhale.

"Who is this?"

Laughter fills the speakers, and Namie has to yank the phone away from her head to keep herself from going deaf. When the laughing stops, and she brings the phone back to her mouth to speak but the dial-tone hits her ears. She's left standing there in silence, an uneasy feeling swirling in her stomach.

She moves the phone away from her ear and glares down at the device. Setting herself into Izaya's work chair, she skims through the informant's many contacts until she finds the one she wants and calls it without hesitantion.

"...Hello," a groggy tone comes through the speaker.

"Hello, this is Izaya's assistant," Namie says in reply.

"Why are you calling me?" the voice asks, confused. "And why are you calling from the flea's phone?"

"I have a gut feeling..."

"A gut feeling...?"

"Yes," Namie breathes, her own voice on the edge of worrisome. "Shizuo... I need you to find Izaya for me."

"Why?"

"I'm just feeling really uneasy... Someone called him three times today and said nothing. Maybe I'm just creeping myself out, but I think something might be going on."

Shizuo grunts at the other end of the phone, "Are you sure it just wasn't a prank call?"

"It scared me," Namie replied honestly. "Please, Shizuo, just go and find Izaya."


End file.
